







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap Copyright 

Shelti.LS.3^V. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




ROSES 


“ Watchful, 

The opening buds absorbed her care.” 

Anon. 




Clapped his hand on his nephew’s shoulder, with a force that 
almost made him quail.” 


\Page 234 . 


ROSES 



/ 

By AMY LE FEUVRE 


Author of“ Probable Sons” “ Teddy's Button 
“ The Odd One” Etc. 


WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY SYDNEY COWELL 


NEW YORK 

WILBUR B. KETCHAM 

7 and 9 West Eighteenth St. 



43745 

Copyright, 1899, 

By WILBUR B. KETCHAM 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 



“Safe, \ • 



CONTENTS 


CHAP. p AGE 

I. “A Dream.y Old Place” 9 

II. “Daddy and I” 21 

III. “Nobody to Take Care Of” * 37 

IV. “ A Dear Little Tiny Pig ! ” 52 

V. “ Are there Thiefs in the Country ? ” 69 

VI. “Just the Sort of Person I’ve been Look- 
ing for” 82 

VII. “A Little Crooked Tree” 100 

VIII. “A Boy for Sixpence a Day” 121 

IX. “She’s Stoled Me!” 140 

X. “ One of Granny’s Very Best Stories” 155 

XI. “Another Pair of Eyes for Me” 173 

XII. “When Roses have no Gardener they Come >.* 
to Nothing”... 186 

XIII. “Daddy’s Own Book” 203 

XIV. “Really and Truly One of the Family”.. 220 

XV. “Pricking One Another” 236 

XVI. “ It is Just Like We Used to be” 252 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Clapped his hand on his nephew’s shoulder, 

with a force that almost made him quail.”. . .Frontispiece. 

x/ 

“ With her garden scissors began to snip off 


first one beauty, then another.” Facing page 26 

j 

“ They had not gone far before they met Tim 

on his crutches ” “ “ 125 

■J 

“ The peacocks and flowers were a never end- 

ing joy.” “ “ 162 


ROSES. 


CHAPTER I 

“ A Dreamy 
Old Place ” 

A LONG an old-fashioned terrace walk, 
^ in apparent oblivion of all the sweet 
scents and sounds around her, moved 
Mrs. Fitzherbert. She looked in keeping 
with her surroundings. A little old lady 
with snow-white hair, and delicate ivory- 
tinted complexion, daintily attired in 
black silk and old lace, with a broad- 
brimmed garden hat shading a pair of 
the softest blue eyes yon could come 
across. No wonder everybody said she 
was like an old picture. And many a 
young girl envied her soft rippling voice 


10 


Roses. 


and laugh, and the faculty she possessed 
of attracting and interesting all who 
came in contact with her, by her bright 
personality. 

Her quaint, old-fashioned house, with 
its casement windows and deep window 
seats, its old oak staircase and paneled 
rooms, and the scent of pot-pourri and 
lavender in the air, seemed to belong to a 
past generation. Four servants formed 
her establishment, and the youngest was 
over fifty. Sarah, the cook, a stern, hard- 
featured woman, had lived with her mis- 
tress for thirty years. She was never 
seen to smile, though not at all destitute 
of humor. “ I do my duty, and the world 
would be a better place if every one did 
the same,” was her favorite saying. 

Taylor, Mrs. Fitzherbert’s maid, was a 
marked contrast. She was inclined to be 
stout, wore at all times a placid smile, and 
was never known to be ruffled in temper. 
If she had any peculiarity, it was her 
imperturbable deliberation. No one could 


“A Dreamy Old Place.” 11 

hurry her ; no one could astonish her. 
Bertha, the housemaid, would declare that 
if the moon were to fall, Taylor would 
only smile, and say, “ A pretty sight ! ” 
Bertha herself was a bustling energetic 
woman, with a wholesome horror of dust 
and spiders, and a tongue that was con- 
tinually getting her into difficulties. 
Lastly came Jonas, the gardener and 
coachman combined; a “character/’ as 
he was termed by all who knew him. 
He regaled the women with all the gossip 
of the neighborhood, and had an exasper- 
ting trick of nodding his gray head up 
and down mysteriously after giving out 
his news : “ And in course there’s a deal 
more to be said, but not by I to women 
folks who chatters ! ” All were devotedly 
attached to their mistress, and were so 
wedded to the quiet regular routine of the 
house, that a change of any sort seemed 
as impossible as unexpected. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert rose at eight, break- 
fasted at half-past nine, had prayers im- 


12 


Roses. 


mediately afterwards, and then retired to 
her morning-room, for an hour, to read 
and write her letters, interview Sarah, or 
attend to any domestic matters needing 
her consideration. At eleven, she put on 
her garden hat, and spent the rest of the 
morning in her garden ; for it was the 
joy of her heart, and she superintended 
every inch of it. Like everything else 
around her, it was typical of its owner. 
The green turf surrounding the house 
was like velvet to walk upon ; the mul- 
berry tree, the weeping willow, and the 
stately elms and beeches were scattered 
in graceful groups about it. But the 
flower garden and the old terraced walk 
were Mrs. Fitzherbert’s favorite haunts. 
Roses of all sorts and sizes bordered the 
terrace ; violets, lilies of the valley, mig- 
nonette, sweet peas, and all sweet-scented 
flowers were grown in profusion ; but no 
entreaties from either Jonas or any of her 
friends would ever induce the old lady to 
have a scentless flower. “ They may be 


“ A Dreamy Old Place.” 13 

fair to look at,” she would say quaintly ; 
“ but I require something more than color 
and brightness. I like my flowers to have 
an influence in my garden ; to spread 
their fragrance round about; to remind 
me of their presence when I do not see 
them.” 

And you had only to see Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert handling a plant or flower to tell 
how much she. loved it. At one o’clock 
she would come in to her luncheon, after 
which she would retire to her room for a 
short nap. At three o’clock she would 
drive herself out in her low pony carriage 
to pay calls, or do some shopping in the 
neighboring town. Then came afternoon 
tea ; a short time with the newspapers or 
the current literature of the day, and 
dinner at half-past seven. The rest of 
the evening would be spent in knitting 
and reading, and at half-past ten the 
little household would have retired to 
rest. 

For nearly twenty years Mrs. * Fitz- 


14 


Roses. 


herbert bad led tbis quiet life, and tbis 
morning as sbe paced along tbe old 
terrace ber thoughts were in a tumult. 
Perhaps if we glance at tbe letter held so 
tremblingly in ber band, we may guess 
tbe cause of ber discomposure. It was 
from a clergyman in London, and read as 
follows : — 

“ Dear Madam, — 

11 1 am taking tbe liberty of writing to 
you, though a perfect stranger. For some 
time past I have been relieving, as well 
as I have been able, a very sad case lately 
brought to my notice. It is that of a 
gentleman reduced in circumstances. He 
is now recovering from a severe attack 
of fever, brought on by starvation and 
exposure to wet. An opening has been 
found for him in tbe colonies, but be is 
anxious to find a home for bis little girl, 
as it is impossible for him to take ber 
with him. He mentioned you to me as 
being ber godmother, and I am venturing 


15 


“ A Dreamy Old Place.” 

to ask if you would like to do anything 
towards providing her with a home. Her 
mother died when she was born. It 
might be possible to put her in some 
orphanage or school. They seem to have 
no relations, but she has been carefully 
brought up, and is an engaging child. 
You will doubtless remember her father, 
by name, Arthur Seaton. He tells me 
he was the son of a clergyman, living 
in your neighborhood. Apologizing for 
troubling you with this matter, 

“ Yours faithfully, 

“ C. Haix.” 

It was a lovely June morning, and the 
roses seemed bathed in golden sunshine. 
As Mrs. Fitzherbert passed to and fro 
amongst them, her thoughts took her 
back eight years ago to a young couple 
pacing that same terraced walk. Arthur 
Seaton had been a great favorite of hers, 
though she often shook her head at his 
light way of taking life; and when he 


16 


Roses. 


became engaged to a penniless doctor’s 
daughter on the strength of being put on 
a certain literary staff, Mrs. Fitzherbert 
was the first person that was informed of 
it. He brought Miss Violet Wood to see 
her one summer evening, and would 
often after that take possession of the 
old terrace walk. Love amongst the roses 
was very sweet, and the young couple 
looked forward to the future with bliss- 
ful ignorance of ways and means, and 
supreme indifference to the warnings of 
their more experienced relatives and 
friends. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert shook her head and 
sighed ; but gave them a handsome wed- 
ding present, and consented, eighteen 
months after, to be the godmother of 
their little girl. Poor Violet had left 
her motherless little babe to the care of 
strangers before the christening took 
place, and Arthur had been too over- 
whelmed with grief and bewilderment to 
keep his old friend informed of his move- 


“A Dreamy Old Place.” 17 

ments afterwards. Mrs. Fitzherbert was 
under tbe impression that the child had 
not outlived its mother, so that the letter 
now received by her was a great sur- 
prise. 

She was deep in her thoughts, when a 
brisk step on the gravel walk made her 
look up. 

It was Mrs. Howard, the vicar’s wife, a 
bright-looking, energetic woman, who 
ruled her husband, house, and parish 
with a firm hand, for she was a born 
manager. Mrs. Fitzherbert was the only 
one that she could not rule, and she liked 
her the better for it. 

“ I am come to beg, Mrs. Fitzherbert, 
or you would not see me here at this time 
of the morning. Dear me, how lovely 
your roses are ! Why cannot ours do as 
well ? This old garden would have a 
very demoralizing effect on me if I were 
in it long. It is such a dreamy old place. 
I have come for your subscription to the 
Cottage Hospital. It was due yesterday. 


18 Roses. 

You do not look well. Is any tiling the 
matter ?” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert laid her hand gently 
on Mrs. Howard’s arm. 

“ A little upset, my dear. I have en- 
joyed such a peaceful quiet life that I 
dread any change. Have you time for a 
little chat ? ” 

“ Certainly. I hope you do not medi- 
tate going away ? ” 

“ Let us sit down on this sunny seat. 
Now I will give you this letter to read.” 

The old lady sat very still whilst her 
friend perused it, and when it was handed 
back to her she said quietly : 

“ It was rather strange this morning. 
I came across that verse in my daily read- 
ing: ‘ Wo to those that sit at ease.’ I 
thought a good deal about it whilst I was 
dressing. I have been ‘ sitting at ease ’ 
for many years now, and then comes this 
letter to wake me up.” 

“But, my dear Mrs. Fitzherbert, you 
know I am not one to encourage laziness ; 


“A Dreamy Old Place. 


19 


and I honestly think that you have 
nothing to reproach yourself with on that 
score. At your age, when you have 
borne the burden of life with all its 
troubles and cares, you have a right to 
rest a little. We all want some good 
people who have time to listen to our tales 
of wo, whether fancied or otherwise. 
And that is the post you occupy in this 
neighborhood. Your time, your purse, 
and your sympathy are all at our dis- 
posal. I do not see that this letter need 
disturb you. I remember Arthur Seaton, 
a good-for-nothing scapegrace, with more 
brains than his laziness would let him 
use! I always think his old father’s 
death was due to anxiety caused by him. 
Why don’t you put this child into the 
Orphanage school at S ? ” 

“ I am going to let her live with me,” 
was the quiet reply. 

“ Oh, nonsense ! ” exclaimed Mrs. 
Howard ; “ you must not dream of such a 
thing. I have never had any children of 


20 


Roses. 


my own, but from what I see of other 
people’s, they are an infinite trouble to 
train. A child in your household would 
upset everybody and everything, and try 
your nerves most dreadfully. It is not to 
be thought of.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert rose from the seat. 

“Will you come into the house now? 
and I will get you my subscription.” 

Mrs. Howard obeyed at once, but used 
all her expostulations and entreaties to 
ward off this proposed addition to the quiet 
household. All in vain. As she parted 
from Mrs. Fitzherbert a short time later, 
the old lady said with some spirit, and 
more brightness than she had shown as 
yet : 

“I will bring her to see you the day 
after she arrives, and you will fall in love 
with her on the spot ! ” 


CHAPTER II 


“ Daddy and I ” 

CHE had come: and stood before her 
^ godmother in the quaint, shady draw- 
ingroom. White and speechless, her dark 
gray eyes fixed intently on the kind old 
face bending towards her. 

She had a rough shock of auburn curls, 
a pale, determined little face, and in a 
blue waterproof a world too big for her, 
and a woolen tarn o’ shanter, looked very 
unprepossessing in appearance. Taylor 
had been sent up to London for her, and 
seemed quite in perplexity about her. 

“ She hasn’t said a word, ma’am, the 
whole way down. The clergyman came 
to Waterloo Station with her, and she 
hugged him round the neck when he 

n 


22 


Roses. 


wished her good-by. She might be a 
deaf and dumb for all I can get out of 
her.” 

“ Never mind, Taylor, she is shy and 
tired, poor little mite. Take her up to 
your room, give her some tea, and put her 
to bed. She will feel more at home to- 
morrow.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert dismissed the child 
with a kiss ; and an involuntary sigh es- 
caped her as Taylor disappeared with her. 
She had made every arrangement for 
the child’s comfort ; Taylor had willingly 
agreed to look after her, and a little bed 
had been placed in her bedroom accord- 
ingly. The workroom, Taylor’s special 
domain, was a pleasant, sunny room, with 
two broad windows overlooking the mea- 
dows and river beyond. This was to be 
her nursery ; a new, smartly-dressed doll, 
some bright picture-books, and a little 
cushioned chair awaited her there. 

Down-stairs, Mrs. Fitzherbert was turn- 
ing over anxiously some newly-bought 


23 


“ Daddy and I.” 

books, and each bore somewhat of this 
title : “ The Mother’s Help,” “ Children, 
and How to Train them,” “The Nursery 
Guide.” 

“ How I wish,” she said softly to her- 
self as she gazed out into her flower- 
garden already fading from her eyes in 
the evening mist and twilight — “how I 
wish I knew as much about children as 
flowers ! If only the same training would 
do for both ! ” 

And then her blue eyes assumed a wist- 
ful, dreamy look, as mentally she began 
to con over to herself all that one of her 
favorite roses needed to bring it to per- 
fection. Looking up at last to the even- 
ing sky, she murmured with a smile, 
“ Lord, she is one of Thy rosebuds. 
Thou hast given me the honor of tending 
her in Thy garden. Make me a wise 
and skilful gardener.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert did not see her little 
godchild again till the next morning, 
when she was about to take her usual 


24 


Roses. 


walk along the terrace. Nervousness 
kept her from making any advances. She 
was informed by Taylor that the little girl 
had slept well and eaten well, but as yet 
would only reply in monosyllables, and 
she did not feel quite equal to undergo 
the impenetrable stare and impassive 
stolidity of the little stranger so early in 
the morning. 

But as she came up the old stone steps 
to the terraced walk, she was witness 
behind the rose bushes of a touching 
scene. Trotting along the walk, her 
crop of curls bare to the air and her little 
face dimpled with smiles, was her god- 
child. The transformation in her little 
person was marvelous. 

“ See, daddy, take my arm ; you aren’t 
vewy strong yet. Do you smell the 
roses ? Oh, it’s lovely ! There’s enough 
of them to make the bed of roses you say 
will never come to you and me. Let’s 
sit down. Dear daddy, isn’t this fairy 
land ? Smell this pink one ; see, I’m 


25 


“ Daddy and I.” 

pushing it to you. Isn’t it still? All 
the cabs and carts have gone away, and 
there’s no fried fish to smell instead of 
eat here. Oh, daddy, let me snuggle up 
to you. It’s only make-believe you know, 
and everybody looks so strange. I must 
talk to you, dear darling daddy. The 
little old lady is so grand ; she’s like 
Cinderella’s godmother. But, daddy, you 
and me will come and walk in this lovely 
garden evewy day ; yes, we will, dear, 
and you’ll get fatter and stronger, and be 
able to tell me wonnerful stories.” 

The little head was nodding up and 
down, the hands gesticulating, and the 
busy tongue hard at work, when the 
rustle of a dress, and the sudden appear- 
ance of Mrs. Fitzherbert, interrupted the 
happy “ make-believe.” 

In an instant the child’s figure drooped, 
the sparkle in the eager little eyes died 
out, and the tightly closed mouth seemed 
to intimate that all speech was at an end. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert gave her a bright 


26 


Roses. 


little nod, then turned to her roses, and 
with her garden scissors began to snip off 
first one beauty, then another, till her 
basket was full. She did not speak, and 
the child watched her in silence. Then 
suddenly Mrs. Fitzherbert turned to her. 

“Here, little one, these roses are for 
you, for I know you must love them as 
much as I do. What will you do with 
them? ” 

It was a crucial moment. The small 
hands that were so tightly clasped behind 
her, relaxed their hold, the lips began to 
quiver, the eyes beamed with delight, and 
then Mrs. Fitzherbert was startled by a 
rush, a spring, and two little arms were 
hugging her round the neck. 

“ I love you, old godmother, I love you. 
Next to daddy and the roses, I’ll love you.” 

The roses had conquered, and the 
child’s lonely little heart was won. 

A few minutes later, and the garden 
seat was occupied by the old lady and her 
godchild. 



“ With her garden scissors began to snip off first one beauty, 
then another.” 


{Page 26 . 



27 


“ Daddy and I.” 

“ Yes/’ the child was saying, “ my 
proper name is ‘ Dimple/ because daddy 
gave it to me. He pokes his fingers in my 
two little holes when I laugh, and calls me 
1 Dimple.’ Isabella is my church name, 
what the clergyman gave me when I was 
a baby. Mrs. Briggs told me he did, and 
I’m sure I didn’t want him to, because 
Dimple is a much nicer name, and I 
shan’t never be called Isabella by any- 
body ! ” 

Then, after a pause : 

“ What’s your name, godmother ? 
What used your daddy to call you when 
you were a little girl ? Didn’t yon never 
have a nicer name than godmother ? ” 

“ I used to be called Sylvia. Now 
every one calls me Mrs. Fitzherbert, for 
my daddy went to heaven long ago.” 

“ My daddy nearly did the other day, 
but he’s quite well now, only he feels 
his bones rather. What shall I call 
you? ” 

“ I think you may call me 1 Granny ’ ; 


28 


Roses. 


that will be shorter than godmother. Do 
you think you will be happy with me ? ” 

Dimple clasped her small hands round 
her knees and drew her feet up to consider. 
She looked at the roses by her side, then 
at her godmother, and then her eyes roved 
round the old garden to the house in the 
distance. 

“ It’s living in a story book here,” she 
said at last. “ But, oh, I want daddy, I 
want daddy ! ” 

She did not cry, but the pathos of her 
tone brought the tears to the eyes of Mrs. 
Fitzherbert. 

And then Dimple began to speak 
eagerly and excitedly. 

“ Daddy and I have grown up so many 
years together. I never remember not 
having daddy with me ; and when he was 
late home, I always had the toast ready 
for him, and sometimes we had an egg 
between us for tea — turn about, you know ; 
but daddy always gave me the biggest 
spoonfuls, acanse he wasn’t hungry, he 


29 


“ Daddy and I.” 

said. And then, if the fire was out and 
we had no more coal, I would snuggle in- 
side his coat, and he would tell me stories 
in the dark, and then I went to bed in the 
corner of the room, and daddy would light 
a candle and write books, and afore daddy 
got ill we would take a walk in the park 
on Sundays, and it was lovely ! And 
sometimes we had s’rimps and watercress 
on Sunday, and once Mrs. Briggs made 
me a cake, but that was afore we got 
very poor and had to leave her.” 

“ Tell me more,” said “ Granny,” as 
the little voice paused. 

“ And I had a little kitty, such a dear 
little mite, and she only took a weeny 
tiny drop of milk, but daddy said I must 
give her to Mrs Briggs, acause there 
wasn’t enough milk for me. I did cry 
when Kitty went ; I couldn’t help it. But 
daddy always was unhappy when I cried, 
so I didn’t very often ; not till he tumbled 
down in the street and was carried home 
by a policeman ; but when he got better, 


30 


Roses. 


he told me it was because he hadn’t eaten, 
and then I ran to the baker’s and he lent 
me a loaf without paying, acause daddy’s 
money was late in coming.” 

Dimple turned over the roses in the 
basket rather thoughtfully before she 
went on. “ Daddy used to hold me up in 
his arms to look at the flowers in the 
shops, but these bu’ful roses would be 
pounds and pounds in London. We 
couldn’t never have bought any, could we ? 
When daddy makes a lot of money, he is 
coming back to fetch me to a nice little 
house in ’Merica, with roses on the walls 
- and a garden like this, and we will have 
meat evewy day and always butter with 
our bread, and I’m to be a good girl till 
he comes, and p’waps he’ll come next 
week.” 

She nodded her little head cheerfully, 
and then clambered down from the seat. 
“ May I walk on the grass here ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Go wherever you like, darling,” Mrs. 


31 


“ Daddy and I.” 

Fitzherbert said. “ If you’re a good 
child, you will be sure to be a happy one, 
and I want you to enjoy yourself.” 

Dimple trotted off, talking either to her- 
self or to an imaginary father, and Mrs. 
Fitzherbert tended her flowers that morn- 
ing with a preoccupied mind. She was 
deep in a reverie whilst she was absently 
brushing some green fly off a pet standard, 
when a voice at her elbow made her start. 

It was Mrs. Howard. 

“ I have seen your little godchild,” she 
began abruptly ; “ she’s a regular little 
character. I was passing by the gate^ 
when I saw her looking through the rails, 
so I came in. ‘ Good morning,’ I said 
cheerfully ; 1 will you shake hands with 
me? I know all about you. Where is 
your godmother ? ’ She drew up her 
curly head, folded her small arms with 
the air of an actress I assure you, and her 
tone was withering : 1 1 keeps myself to 
myself, thank you, and don’t speak to 
strangers.’ And then she walked off to 


32 


Roses. 


the house without another glance at me. 
I haven’t felt so small for a long time.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert looked up with a smile. 

“ I am full of her training this morn- 
ing; wondering whether I ought to get a 
governess, or nurse, or whether I ought 
to take her in hand myself. Her chat- 
ter to me has made me feel very sad. 
Tiny child though she is, she must have 
seen a good deal of privation and want. I 
sometimes wonder why I have been so 
shielded through life whilst others from 
their infancy have to bear suffering and 
starvation.” 

“ It is one of the mysteries of life,” re- 
sponded Mrs. Howard briskly ; “ you have 
rescued one small waif at any rate, so be 
thankful for that mercy. And don’t 
bother yourself about the child’s educa- 
tion. She is too small for anything of 
that sort at present. Let her run wild 
this summer, and by the time the winter 
conies you will be able to arrange some- 
thing.” 


“ Daddy and I.” 33 

She talked on for a few minutes, then 
said good-by, for she was too busy a 
woman to pay long visits to any one, and 
had only come in to have a glimpse of the 
new arrival. 

“ Dimple,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert a little 
later, coming up to where her little god- 
child was holding an animated conversa- 
tion with Jonas, as he was weeding out 
some young lettuces, “ what did you say 
to that lady who came into the garden just 
now ? ” 

Dimple looked up unconcernedly. 

“ Only what Mrs. Briggs taught me to 
say to everybody.” 

“ But it isn’t polite to my visitors,” said 
Mrs. Fitzherbert ; “it may be city man- 
ners, but it certainly isn’t country man- 
ners ; and when people are good enough 
to take notice of you, you must hold out 
your hand prettily and answer their ques- 
tions.” 

“ Do you speak to everybody in the 
country ? ” asked the child, looking up 
3 


34 


Roses. 


with earnest eyes through her unruly 
locks. “We never do in Lunnon. Must I 
shake hands with a black sweep if I see 
him?” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert did not answer; she 
turned to Jonas, and was soon deep in her 
garden difficulties, and Dimple listened 
eagerly till the talk got above her head ; 
then she flitted away, exploring with a 
child’s sharp eyes every nook and cranny 
of the old-fashioned garden. 

She carried her roses into the house 
soon, and climbed up the stairs, singing a 
wordless little song to herself as she went. 
Taylor met her at the work-room door. 

“ Come in and drink this glass of milk, 
Miss, you will want something before your 
early dinner.” 

Dimple opened her eyes rather wide, 
but said nothing, only thoroughly enjoyed 
her milk and biscuit; and then fetched 
the new doll in all her finery and surveyed 
her with critical gravity. 

u Do you like her? ” asked Taylor, set- 


35 


“ Daddy and I.” 

tling herself to her needlework with com- 
fortable deliberation. 

“ She doesn’t want a daddy or mnver to 
take care of her, she’s too grand,” was the 
slow reply ; “ I shan’t have nothing to do 
with her while she’s so grand.” 

She laid the doll on her face in the 
corner of the room, and then, taking her 
basket of roses, climbed on the low window 
seat by Taylor’s side. 

“ I like these best,” she continued, fin- 
gering them softly. “ Aren’t they puf- 
fickly lovely ? I should like a little bed 
all of pink roses, and pillows and sheets 
of white roses, and a house of dark red 
roses, and all the carpets yellow roses ; 
that’s what I shall have when I go to 
daddy’s house he’s getting ready for me.” 

“ You can’t live on roses,” said Taylor. 
u You put your cheek down on those and 
tell me how it feels.” 

Dimple tossed her roses out, and laid 
her little cheek against them, then started 
up with a cry. 


36 


Roses. 


“ They’ve got prickles like pins. Look, 
I’m bleeding.” 

“ Yes,” said Taylor quietly; “ they are 
like most things that we cry out for in 
this world. When we get them, we dis- 
cover their sting.” 

Dimple stood pondering over this. 

“ That’s like the way daddy says things,” 
she said. “But I love the roses, and I 
love their prickles too.” 

With which conclusive assertion she 
clambered down and begged to have some 
water to put them in. 

“ Daddy said flowers get as thirsty as we 
do ; but water is cheap, isn’t it ? They’re 
not like my little Kitty, who had to have 
milk.” 

And when arranged in a bowl to her 
liking, Dimple stood over them with lov- 
ing solicitude, just a little sigh escaping 
her : “If only daddy could see them ! ” 


CHAPTER III 

“ Nobody to 
Take Care of ” 

TT was some time before tbe house- 
A bold could get reconciled to a child’s 
presence, and Dimple proved a restless, 
talkative little being, with a busy brain 
and still busier fingers. Occupation she 
must have ; and if it was not found for 
her, she would find it for herself. 

“ A child is meant to have a nursery 
and be kept in it,” observed Sarah se- 
verely, when the old servants had met for 
a gossip round the kitchen fire in the 
evening. “ She has the run of the house, 
and it ought to be put a stop to ! ” 

“ She has the run of my flower-beds,” 
put in Jonas ruefully. “ She come a- 

37 


38 


Roses. 


dancing across 'em as if they be planted 
all for her. ‘ What do you plant those 
ugly old cabbages for ? ’ she asked me 
this morning, ‘ instead of pretty flowers ? ’ 
and she fills her hands with Missis’s best 
carnations and tucks them inside her 
frock ; and when I shakes my fist at her, 
she says, laughing and running away, 
* Granny and I love flowers, and* you love 
cabbages ; and I love Granny, and I don’t 
love you.’ ” 

“ ’Tis a pity she hasn’t got a nurse to 
look after her,” said Bertha sharply. 
“ The Missus looks at her as if she’s a 
curiosity from China, and lets her have 
her way most dreadful. She will be a 
handful soon if I’m not mistaken ! ” 

“I’m supposed to have the charge of 
her,” observed Taylor quietly ; “ and 
she’s not so difficult to manage if you go 
the right way about it. You can’t expect 
a child to be like iis folks, and always 
prefer sitting still to stirring round.” 

“ Speak for yourself, please, Taylor,” 


“ Nobody to Take Care of. 11 39 

Bertha retorted. “ It isn’t all of us that 
loves a h’easy chair as you do, or has the 
chance to use it ! I think if I had the 
charge of Miss Isabella, I’d teach her a 
few things ! ” 

“ There go you wimen ! ” exclaimed 
Jonas ; “ allays a-ready to bite each other’s 
heads off ! As for the little maid, Bertha 
must just have bin sich anither when she 
were young ! ” 

Bertha tossed her head indignantly at 
this accusation ; but Taylor, in her slow, 
unmoved way, said : “ She has a loving 
little heart when you get to understand 
her. She comes into the work-room this 
morning from the garden, dragging her 
doll after her, in rather a shamefaced 
way. I looks up, and there I saw that 
beautiful doll, that cost no less than ten 
and sixpence, in a most awful state ! 
Blue silk dress covered with mud, paint 
all off cheeks and mouth, all soaking and 
dripping with water ! ‘ Why, whatever 

have you been doing with it ! ’ I says. 


40 


Roses. 


She looks up at me with her solemn eyes. 

* She used to be a rich lady/ she says as 
grave as a judge ; 1 but, poor thing, she 
went to Lunnon, and she’s got very poor. 
She had no house when it rained, so she 
has got very wet ; she felt very hungry, 
so her cheeks got pale; she got her 
clothes dirty, and there was no one to 
wash them ; and so — so she doesn’t turn 
her nose up at me any more, for she’s 
crying hard, and she’s very unhappy. I 
found her in a Lunnon street, and I’m 
going to have her as my little girl, and 
I’m going to love her like Granny does 
me.’ With that she walks off to her 
corner where she plays ; and she’s as good 
as gold talking to, and dressing that doll for 
two hours after. And now she’ll never let 
it out of her arms, when she would hardly 
so much as look at it before. Children are 
very queer, when all’s said and done.” 

“ She’s out of place in this house,” 
said Sarah conclusively, and the subject 
of conversation was changed. 


“ Nobody to Take Care of.” 41 

Every morning now, Mrs. Fitzherbert 
took Dimple into ber room, and read a 
chapter from tbe Bible to ber, explaining 
it as she did so. She did not keep her 
long, for she did not wish to weary her, 
but for the time Dimple was interested 
and attentive. 

“ You see,” she said to her godmother 
one day after she had been listening with 
breathless attention and with tearful eyes 
to the story of the Cross, “ no one didn’t 
explanise things to me in Lunnon. Daddy 
did try to teach me 1 Our Father’ one 
Sunday afternoon, but it was too differ- 
cult, and I didn’t know that Jesus was so 
good and kind. I never knew it was to 
let us into heaven that He let those 
wicked men kill Him. I do love Him 
for being so kind, don’t you? ” 

“ Yes I do,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert 
simply ; “ but I’m afraid neither you nor 
I love Him half as much as we ought, or 
we wouldn’t grieve Him so often.” 

“ Oh, I don’t grieve Jesus at all,” said 


42 


Roses. 


Dimple, shaking her curly head emphati- 
cally. “ Shouldn’t think of such a thing. 
I love Him very much ! ” 

“ But do you know that every time you 
are cross and naughty you grieve Him ? 
Jesus wants you to be good ; that pleases 
Him.” 

Dimple looked quite taken aback ; then 
she said quickly, “ Well, we mustn’t tell 
H;m anything about it, will we ? and I’ll 
try and remember to be cross very softly 
when I have to be, so that He won’t hear.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert could not help smil- 
ing, but little by little, line upon line, she 
taught her small godchild something of 
her own sinful little heart, and something 
of the Saviour’s love and power to keep 
her from the bondage of it. 

After the daily Bible reading was over, 
Dimple scampered about for the rest of 
the day, being in the open air for the 
greater part of it. Yet she had her grave 
moments, as Mrs. Fitzherbert soon dis- 
covered. 


“ Nobody to Take Care of,” 43 

She came across her one day sitting on 
the edge of a cucumber frame, with a 
wo-begone little face ; her doll in her 
lap, but her thoughts evidently far 
away. 

“ What is the matter? ” asked Mrs. 
Fitzherbert cheerily. “ Dolly is not hurt, 
is she ? ” 

Dimple looked at her doll with a comical 
face of disgust. 

“ She's quite well, granny. She’s too 
stupid to get ill or anything nice. I’m 
very, very tired of her. She says nothing, 
and does nothing, and she stares at me 
always wide awake, and she smiles if I 
slap or shake her. She’s every day the 
same ; she’s as bad as a picture on 
paper ! ” 

“ Granny ” looked puzzled. 

“ Don’t you like dollies ? I did when I 
was a little girl. I used to think they 
were my little children, and loved them 
like a mother. 

Dimple looked at her godmother with a 


44 Roses. 

quivering lip, and then burst into a pas- 
sionate wail : 

“ I want daddy ; he’s better than a 
stupid dolly. I want some one to take 
care of. I always tooked care of him, and 
now I’ve nobody. I used to pull his 
chair up to the fire, and brush his coat, 
and I could sew his buttons on — Mrs. 
Briggs taught me how ; Mrs. Briggs said 
I was a little woman when I dusted the 
room, and I kept daddy’s room so tidy. 
I did sweep the floor once, but the horrid 
broom kept tripping me up. I’ve nobody 
to take care of here, and I don’t know 
what to do. Daddy said I used to comfort 
him and do him a lot of good.” 

She nodded her little head wisely, as 
she paused. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was silent for a mo- 
ment, then she said, “ You must try and 
take care of me, Dimple ; I am an old 
lady, and I can’t run about as I used to ; 
you must run my errands, and comfort 
me instead of daddy.” 


“Nobody to Take Care of.” 45 

Dimple gazed at her godmother thought- 
fully. 

“ You aren’t poor, and hungry, and sad, 
like daddy used to be ; and Taylor 
brushes you and makes you comfable ; 
there is nothing left for me. You don’t 
want nothing to-day, do you ? ” 

“ Yes ! ” was the brisk reply. “ Come 
along to the tool-house with me, and help 
me to pot some seedlings.” 

Dimple jumped up with alacrity. She 
was so happy with a small trowel and 
some earth, that a brilliant thought struck 
Mrs. Fitzherbert. 

“You shall have a little garden all of 
your own, Dimple, dear, with some little 
tools, and you shall plant it with what 
flowers and vegetables you like. Come 
along with me and we will choose a place 
for it. Taking care of flowers has been 
my pastime for many years, and it can be 
yours. You will find flowers more inter- 
esting than dolls, I expect.” 

Dimple’s face was radiant as she fol- 


46 


Roses. 


lowed her godmother round the garden ; 
and when a good-sized plot of spare ground 
was alloted to her, and she was told she 
could have it for her “ very own,” she 
threw her little arms round her godmother 
in a fervent embrace. 

“ I shall have heaps of roses, and no 
nasty vegetubbers. Oh, granny, it’s ever 
so much nicer than my dolly ! ” 

“ You must set to work and take all the 
weeds out first,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert, 
heaving a sigh of relief as she saw what a 
source of occupation and interest the 
little garden would be to the busy head 
and fingers. 

And for the rest of the day Dimple was 
quite engrossed with her new possession. 

As she was wishing her “ granny ” 
good-night that evening she said earn- 
estly : 

“ And have you had no one but flowers 
ever to take care of ? ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert’ s eyes filled with tears. 

“ Yes, I have had several people, dar- 


“ Nobody to Take Care of.” 47 

ling, but I gave them up to One who can 
take care of them much better than I can.” 

“ Who?” 

“ God. They are in heaven with Him. 
And now I have a special little flower, a 
rosebud that I hope is planted in God’s 
garden down here, and I am going to look 
after her, and try and help her to blossom 
into a beautiful sweet-smelling rose.” 

“ Is that me ? ” 

“ Yes, you are one of God’s little buds 
that He expects to go on growing until 
fit for His beautiful garden in heaven.” 

Dimple’s eyes grew big with earnest 
feeling. 

“ I shall like to be one of God’s little 
roses. Are you one, granny?” 

“ I hope I am one of His flowers ; but 
I have given my Gardener a lot of trouble 
since He planted me.” 

There was silence ; the little head was 
full of new thoughts, and as she was being 
tucked up in bed that night, Dimple said, 
with emphasis, to Taylor : 


48 


Roses. 


“ Granny must be a rose without any 
prickles, for she never hurts any one, and 
I shan’t have any prickles too, and I won’t 
have any prickle roses in my garden. I 
Shan’t let them have prickles.” 

“ You’ve got roses on your brain,” said 
Taylor good-humoredly, whilst Dimple 
added in a contented whisper to herself, 
“ and when my roses are growed I’ll send 
every one to daddy, so he shall have a 
rose in his coat every day besides Sun- 
day.” 

The next afternoon, Dimple crept up to 
her nursery tea from the garden, with a 
mysterious air. 

Taylor had Bertha to tea, and they were 
so busy talking that the child was for 
some time unnoticed. 

She ate her bread and butter and drank 
her mug of milk in silence ; but presently 
her small voice broke out in the way she 
had of talking to herself. 

“ And it’s a good job, my dear, for the 
poor child to be tooken. She never would 


“ Nobody to Take Care of.” 49 

a done nothing, and she’s safe fwom this 
wicked world.” 

u Hear her now ! ” said Taylor in an 
aside to Bertha ; “ the way the child has 
picked up bits of talk from them Lon- 
doners is wonderful ! ” 

“ Who’s safe from this wicked world? ” 
said Bertha with a laugh. 

Dimple looked up solemnly. 

“ My dolly. She doed nothing and 
said nothing, and I can’t take care of her 
aside my garden.” 

“ And what have you done to her, you 
naughty child ? ” Bertha exclaimed. “I 
never see such a destructive little girl. I 
used to make my dolls last years, and 
here you’ve only had a bran new doll a 
week, and when I see her yesterday she 
looked quite wore out already.” 

“ I’ve buried her in my garden, and 
she’s never going to live any more. I’m 
going to take care of flowers now, like 
granny.” 

“ You don’t deserve your granny’s 
4 


50 


Roses. 


kindness, to go and destroy what she’s 
been kind enough to give you,” said 
Taylor slowly. 

“ She’s all right, my dolly is,” re- 
sponded Dimple with a cheerful little 
nod. “ I tied her face up in a pocky- 
hanky. Flowers is put into the ground, 
and flowers is much nicer than she is. 
She’s very comfable there, and I isn’t going 
to think about her any more ! ” 

When Mrs. Fitzherbert was told of the 
fate of “ dolly ” she shook her head. 

“ Ah ! little one, have you such a small 
heart that it will only hold your garden ? 
Couldn’t poor dolly find a place there 
too ? Come, tell me whom you love.” 

“ Daddy ! ” was the quick reply. 

“I am thankful the garden has not 
been his rival in your affections.” 

“ And I love you,” the child went on ; 
“ and I love the roses ; and I love Taylor 
a tiny bit, and I don’t like Jonas acause 
he won’t let me use his big scissors, and 
he says, ( Get along with you, Missy.’ 


u Nobody to Take Care of.” 51 

And I don’t love Bertha acause she 
scolds me for being a child ; and I don’t 
love Sarah acanse she shakes her head so 
dreadful when she sees me ! ” 

Dimple paused for breath, then stroked 
her godmother’s soft white hand coax- 
ingly. 

“ Are you angry with me because of 
dolly ? I do like my garden better than 
her. And you don’t play with dolls, do 
you ? And babies who are put in the 
ground are always better off, aren’t they ? 
Everybody says so.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was not used to such 
quick deductions, so she remonstrated no 
further. 


CHAPTER IV 


“ A Dear Little 
Tiny Pig ! ” 

“ T ONAS, ’sposing you had to grow 
^ out of the ground, what would 
you like to be ? ” 

Dimple asked this question as she stood 
watching Jonas in the potting shed. She 
was very busy over her garden ; all the 
weeds were gone, and she was waiting 
patiently for some little pansy plants that 
Jonas had been told by his mistress to 
give her. 

Jonas grunted ; he had plenty of con- 
versation for the kitchen, but none for 
children, whom he heartily disliked. 

“ I expect you’d like to be a cabbage, 
now, wouldn’t you ? Better than being a 
rose ! ” 

5 2 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 53 

“ Roses don’t feed tlie hungry,” growled 
Jonas. “ I’d be of some use in the world 
if I could.” 

“ Granny likes roses, and you like 
veg’tubbers ; she told me so. I hate veg- 
’tubbers ; I always told daddy not to buy 
any in Lunnon ; I like buns best. It’s a 
pity you can’t grow buns, Jonas ! ” 

Again a grunt, but no more. 

“ I wish my dolly would turn into a 
flower, and come up one day,” went on the 
child, chattering away as only children 
can to a silent listener. “ Do you think 
if I water her well she would, Jonas ? 
She ought to do somefin under the earth 
if she’s in a flower garden ; I’m sure 
she’s better than a flower seed. Jonas, 
does God ever make any new flowers ? 
Or has He made all He is going to ? You 
told granny yesterday there was a new 
sort of— of — now what new flower was it ? 
Don’t you remember, you called it a lady 
somebody ! ” 

“ Carnation it were.” 


54 


Eoses. 


“ Yes ! When did God make it ? Last 
week? He must have made it pretty 
lately, mustn’t He ? ” 

Jonas shook his head, and went on with 
his potting. 

“ I wish I could make flowers, it must 
be dreffully differcult ; you would have to 
have such tiny fingers to get into some of 
them, but I’m going to grow lots of them. 
My garden will be like a big Lunnon shop 
soon, and I’ll have roses and roses and 
roses ; I should like a hill of them in the 
middle. Will you give me a lot of rose seed 
Jonas ? I sowed some mustard and cress in a 
window in Lunnon once. I should like 
to sow roses quite as thick as that. Who 
sows the weeds, Jonas? They’re thick 
enough, nasty things ! Granny told me I 
was a little rose yesterday, one of God’s 
little roses. What are you Jonas ? You 
aren’t a rose, I’m sure ! ” 

I’m what the Lord made me,” was the 
grim reply. 

“ When will my plants be ready ? You 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 55 

don’t speak to me half so nice as Taylor 

does. I expect ” here Dimple paused, 

cast about in her mind for something that 
she really disliked, and brought it out with 
much emphasis and disgust. “I expect 
you’re one of God’s onions , that’s what you 
are ! ” 

Her patience and her talk were ex- 
hausted ; and she darted out into the 
sunny garden, dancing over the green 
lawn, and singing as she did so. A few 
minutes later and she was swinging on 
the front gate, looking out into the road 
for want of something better to do. Pres- 
ently a boy with a basket came along. 
Dimple stared at him in silence. He 
looked up and grinned. 

“Will you know me again, young un ? ” 
“ I don’t know you now,” she said 
gravely. “ What’s your name ? Granny 
says I can shake hands with people in 
the country, and speak to them too. 
Shall I shake hands with you ? ” 

The boy stood still, attracted by the 


56 


Roses. 


winsome little lady. Dimple descended 
from her perch, opened the gate, and held 
out her hand. 

“ I’m very glad to see you,” she said 
with an old-fashioned air of politeness, 
“ are you coming in ? ” 

“ Not I,” said the boy, laughing ; “ are 
you coming out ? ” 

“ Yes, I think I will,” said Dimple, 
taking him at his word, and stepping out 
beside him with great energy. “You see, 
in Lunnon, Mrs. Briggs told me I couldn’t 
know people, acause some of them were 
wicked ; but no one is in the country, are 
they ? What have you got in your 
basket ? ” 

The boy lowered his basket and let her 
peep inside. 

“ Some chickens, and sausages, do you 
keep a chicken shop ? ” 

“ Bless your heart, these don’t come 
from a shop. They’re from Darley 
Coombe Farm, and they’re agoin’ to the 
big house up yonder.” 


57 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 

“ Who lives there ? ” 

“ Squire Watcombe.” 

Dimple was none the wiser, but she 
thought she was. 

She nodded her head. 

“ And who are you ? ” 

“ My name is Bert White. 7 ’ 

“ Bert ? That’s a nice easy name, and 
are you going home when you’ve taken 
your chicken ? ” 

“ Yes, I be.” 

“ Then I’ll come with you, and you can 
show me your home.” 

Bert looked a little uneasy. They 
trudged along, and soon met another lad 
leading a donkey-cart full of vegetables. 

The boys knew each other, and stopped 
to have a chat ; Dimple walked round the 
cart and inspected it with her nose in the 
air. 

“ Only nasty veg’tubbers,” she said ; 
then she gave an exclamation of delight. 

“ Oh, there’s a dear little tiny pig 


58 


Roses. 


asleep in the bottom. Oh, do let me see 
him ! Wake him up. Where are you 
going to take him ? ” 

Bert laughed. 

“ I’ll leave her with you, Ben ; she’s 
follered me ever so far, and you’d best 
take her back, or we shall hear of it 
agen ! ” 

Ben looked at Dimple and then at his 
cart. He was a stupid-looking, red- 
headed boy, and when he watched Bert 
hurrying away, he scratched his head in 
perplexity. 

Dimple seized hold of his coat implor- 
ingly : 

“ Do lift me up in your cart to see that 
little pig,” she said. 

He awkwardly obeyed her. 

11 He’s a-goin to market. Feyther be 
goin’ to sell him.” 

“ Oh, I wish I could buy him, I wish I 
could ; he’s such a darling ! Look ! he’s 
opening his eyes ! May I sit down and 
take him in my lap ? ” 


“A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 59 

“ Sit steady, for I’m a-goin’ on.” 

The donkey started, the boy jumped up 
and took his place on the seat. Dimple 
was already sitting on bunches of turnips 
in the botton of the cart, her busy hands 
quietly liberating some cord round the 
little black pig’s legs. 

There was a great deal of squeaking 
when she took the pig in her arms ; and 
then a shriller squeak, and a loud cry 
from her, made the stolid boy look 
round. 

The pig in his fright and struggles had 
dashed out of the cart, and was making 
the best of his way across a green field. 

“ Well, I’m blest ! Whatever are I to 
do ! Feyther’s countin’ to make a deal 
from him ! ” 

“ Shall I run after him ? Lift me down, 
quick, quick ! ” 

Dimple scrambled out of the cart and 
was tearing after the runaway, delighted 
at having a scamper over the green 
grass. 


60 


Eoses. 


Ben scratched his head again, looked 
after her and considered. Then, when he 
could see the pig no more, he shook the 
reins and slowly jogged on his way to 
market. 

Dimple’s breath soon gave way, and she 
paused. 

“ He is a stupid pig to run away so fast. 
He ought to like me to nurse him — my 
dollies do — but I think a pig would be 
nicer to nurse than a doll. I will try 
and catch him ! ” 

Off she started again, but was suddenly 
confronted by two gentlemen. 

u Well, little lady, what are you doing 
here ? ” asked one of them. 

Dimple put out her hand at once. 

“ How do you do. Please I’m catching 
a pig ! ” 

A hearty laugh followed this statement. 

“ A runaway pig ! Where has he 
gone ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Dimple, as she 
looked in vain for some signs of the 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 61 

truant. “ He ran right across the field ; 
p’raps he has climbed a tree.” 

“ Clever pig ! ” murmured the other 
gentleman. 

“ Please help me to catch him,” pleaded 
the little girl. “ He tumbled out of the 
cart, and the boy will be so angry ! ” 

“ I’m afraid it is beyond our powers,” 
said the first speaker. “ Does he belong 
to you ? ” 

“ No, but he was such a darling, and I 
was going to ask granny to buy him. He 
has such twinkling eyes ; I would like to 
have him for my own.” 

“ And who is your granny ? She ought 
to look after you better, and not let you 
run about after pigs in this fashion.” 

“ Granny doesn’t know I’ve come away. 
She said I must shake hands with people 
who speak to me in the country ; so I did 
when I saw Bert, and I walked out with 
him, and I met another boy, and he let me 
ride in his cart, and nurse the pig; and 
d’reckly his legs came undone he jumped 


62 


Eoses. 


out. My granny takes care of roses and 
now she’s taking care of me. Do you 
know her, please ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder,” said the elder of 
these two new acquaintances, “ if this 
isn’t Mrs. Fitzherbert’s fresh importation. 
My wife told me of a rencontre with her.” 
Then turning to Dimple, Mr. Howard — 
for it was he who spoke — said drily : 

“ I wonder if you know a little girl who 
‘ keeps herself to herself ’ when ladies 
speak to her. Gentlemen seem priv- 
ileged.” 

Dimple nodded with a smile. 

“ I always ‘ keeps myself to myself ’ in 
Lunnon, but granny told me it wasn’t a 
proper thing to say in the country. I’m 
going to shake hands with everybody I 
see.” 

“ Your acquaintance is not limited, even 
to pigs. Did you shake hands with 
him ? ” 

“ Oh, no. Please will you help me to 
catch him ? ” 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 63 

Mr. Howard laughed ; then obligingly 
turned and scoured the field with her; 
and when Dimple’s legs began to ache, 
he suggested giving up the search and 
taking her home. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was already beginning 
to get very uneasy about her, and was 
much relieved to see her under Mr. 
Howard’s care. 

When she heard the story she said a 
little apologetically to the vicar : 

“ I am as yet unused to children and 
their ways, and do not understand how 
much I must forbid. I never thought 
she would wander off outside the gate. 
You must not run about the roads, 
Dimple. You have made me very 
anxious, darling. Now run up-stairs, and 
stay with Taylor till dinner-time.” 

“ And what about the pig?” asked 
the child anxiously. 

“ I do not know that we can do anything. 
The boy ought to have gone after it 
himself.” 


64 


Roses. 


Dimple trotted up-stairs/and Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert gave a little sigb. 

“ Are you repenting your decision to 
have the child here? ” asked Mr. Howard. 

“ No, oh no ; she is a constant interest 
and amusement. A little tiring at times, 
but I am not so young as I used to be, 
and I am anxious to train her rightly. 
I feel the responsibility, Mr. Howard. 

“ Yes, I suppose you do,” said Mr. 
Howard ; “ but I envy the child under 
your rule. There is no chance of the life 
and spirits being starved and quenched, as 
is so often the case.” 

“ But I may err on the other side*; 
plants require hardening if they are not 
hot-house ones ; and I want to be a good 
disciplinarian from the beginning.” 

Mr. Howard laughed. “ You and your 
roses are associated in my mind with sun- 
shine and sweetness ; don’t try and bring 
a discordant element into your atmos- 
phere.” 

But Mrs. Fitzherbert shook her head 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 65 

with a smile, though she did not pursue 
the subject. Later on she went up-stairs 
to the work-room. Dimple was perched 
on the low window-ledge talking away to 
Taylor. 

“ Pigs is better than dollies, acause 
they kick about, and their eyes twinkle, 
and they roll over and over. I should 
like one so much. I wonder where he is. 
Could he get down under the earth with 
the rabbits ? Why do they creep, under 
the ground, Taylor? Couldn’t they live 
in nests in the trees? That’s what I 
would like to do.” 

Here she noticed her godmother’s 
entrance, and running to her took hold 
of her hand. 

“ Please, granny, come and sit down 
and tell me things like daddy used to do. 
He always answered my questions. He 
said that was all grown-up people were 
good for. Do tell me why pigs can’t 
climb trees. Taylor says she never saw 
one ; cats climb, don’t they ? ” 


66 


Roses. 


“ Yes,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert, sitting 
down and taking Dimple on her knee ; 
“ but cats have claws and very light 
bodies. They stick their claws in the 
wood, and hold on, as pigs could not do.” 

Dimple nodded wisely. Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert continued, — 

“ You see, darling, what is right for one 
animal to do, isn’t right for another, and 
it is just the same with us. One little girl 
who has no friends or anybody to care for 
her may run about in the fields or roads 
as she likes, but another little girl ought 
not to do so.” 

“ That’s me,” put in Dimple. “ I 
didn’t mean to be naughty, granny ; you 
told me to shake hands and be friends with 
everybody, and I did it.” 

“ No, I think you mistook granny. If 
any one comes to this house, any of my 
friends — and I think you will know who 
are likely to be granny’s friends — then I 
shall expect you to shake hands with them, 
but I do not expect you to scamper about 


“ A Dear Little Tiny Pig.” 67 

the roads with strange boys and make 
friends with their pigs ! ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert ended her sentence 
with a little laugh, but Dimple looked 
very serious. 

“Have you many friends, granny? 
Daddy said he hadn’t a true friend 
in Lunnon, and I hadn’t one acept my 
kitty. Mrs. Briggs wasn’t a true 
friend, for she slapped me once, and 
I told her she wasn’t my friend any 
more.” 

Then clasping her godmother tightly 
round the neck, she said with one of her 
quick changes of thought : — 

“ Oh, granny, do you think I shall 
have an appletree in my garden soon ? 
How long will it take to grow up ? I 
buried an old apple that I found in the 
hay-loft. I dug a hole, and I put it down 
very deep, and I poured a whole can of 
water over it. Jonas laughed at me. He 
said, when I asked him, that no doubt I’d 
have a fine crop to-morrow ; but I b’lieve 


68 Roses. 

lie wasn’t speaking true, acause lie 
laughed so.” 

“You have a good many lessons to 
learn yet, darling, if you are going to be- 
come a good gardener. And one of the first 
lessons a gardener learns is to be patient.” 

After a little more talk Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert left the room, and Dimple still stood by 
the window, pondering in her childish 
fashion over what had been said to her. 


CHAPTER V 


“ Are there Thief s 
in the Country? ” 

A DAY or two after, Mrs. Fitzherbert 
^ ^ had a visitor — a tall, handsome 
woman, who arrived in a carriage and 
swept into the house with rustling dra- 
peries, and an atmosphere of sweet per- 
fume about her. 

It was a sultry afternoon ; and Mrs. 
Fitzherbert, instead of going for her usual 
drive, was indulging herself in an arm- 
chair in the cool drawing-room, with the 
last new book. 

“ Lady Dorothy ! ” I am glad to see 
you. I thought you were still abroad.” 

“ I have been home a month, and would 
have been over to you before, only I have 
had the house full of visitors. 

69 


70 


Roses. 


Lady Dorothy stooped to kiss her old 
friend affectionately ; then sank into an 
easy-chair with a little sigh of content. 

“ I do enjoy coming here ! I always feel 
so good when I am in one of your sweet 
peaceful rooms. They are just like you. 
Sometimes I would give anything to change 
places with you, Mrs. Fitzherbert. You 
seem to have passed through all the trou- 
bles of life, and are in such smooth waters 
now.” 

“You ought not to know much trouble, 
my dear, in your circumstances.” 

And Mrs. Fitzherbert looked sympa- 
thetically into the discontented, tired face 
of her visitor. 

Lady Dorothy laughed impatiently. 

“ Oh, yes ; so everybody says. Wealth 
and youth are supposed to be infallible 
proofs of happiness. I long sometimes to 
be one of the hardworking mothers in our 
village. They never get so tired of every- 
body and everything as I do. Even Her- 
bert and I have quarrels now. I’m sure 


Are there Thiefs? 


71 


it is for want of occupation, but it is not 
soothing to one’s spirits. I often think 
that I am of no use to any one, and long 
to have done with life altogether.” 

“ We shall never come to that,” said 
. Mrs. Fitzherbert very gently ; “ this life 
is only the beginning of another life here- 
after.” 

u Oh, I know, I know. I wish I were 
good like you. Now will you take me to 
your rose walk ? It is always such a pleas- 
ure to see you amongst your flowers.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert rose at once. “ We 
will just have time before tea comes in ; 
I believe you are as fond of flowers as I 
am ; come this way.” 

Lady Dorothy followed her hostess with 
a wistful face along the old-fashioned 
walks, but stopped short at the little fig- 
ure of a child in white sun hat, and brown 
holland overall, stooping over a bed of 
newly-planted pansies. 

“ Why, who is this ? ” she asked ; “ you 
have no grand-cliildren ? ” 


72 


Eoses. 


“ No, but it is a little godchild living 
with me now. Come and speak to this 
lady, Dimple.” 

Dimple turned round showing a heated 
earnest little face, and very grubby hands. 

“ I’m very busy, granny ; there’s a 
nasty snail and two worms crawling all 
about, and they wriggle away d’reckly I 
catch hold of them.” 

Lady Dorothy’s face softened wonder- 
fully as she looked at the child. 

“ You’re a happy little creature,” she 
said smiling, “ to be living in this’ old- 
world garden with such a fairy god- 
mother.” 

“ Yet it was only a day or two ago that 
Dimple was experiencing some of your 
difficulties,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert, laying 
her hand on the child’s brown curls. 
“ She was very unhappy because she was 
of no use to any one.” 

Dimple looked up, and gave one of her 
emphatic little nods. 

“ That was acause I didn’t have any 


Are there Thiefs ? 


73 


one to take care of. But I’ve got suck a 
lot of flowers now, and they’re my little 
chillen, and they keep me very busy.” 

Lady Dorothy moved on, but her voice 
was somewhat unsteady as she said, “ If 
I had children to take care of, I should be 
a happy woman.” 

“But there are others wanting your 
love and care, my dear. Believe me, 
there is nothing that will bring more 
gladness and interest to your life than 
your taking interest in those around you, 
who need your help and sympathy.” 

“ I don’t care for poor people. I don’t 
know how to talk to them.” 

“ Because you do not know them. But 
I was not only thinking of your poor 
tenants. There are others in your own 
class of life who are often in trouble and 
in want of a friend.” 

“ They would never turn to me,” and 
Lady Dorothy’s tone was rather bitter. 
“ No, I shall never pose as a benefactor 
to any one. It isn’t in my line.” 


74 


Roses. 


She had stopped, and bent her head to 
a most beautiful crimson rose. 

“ I always think your roses have the 
sweetest scents of any I see. I can 
almost smell them as I am driving by.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert smiled. 

“ And don’t you think, my dear, we 
human creatures ought to give some sort 
of fragrance in our lives to refresh the 
passers-by ? You know my weakness. 
I will not have a flower in my garden 
that does not impress the atmosphere 
with its sweetness.” 

Lady Dorothy laughed. 

“ I always love your little sermons 
amongst your roses. You carry your 
precepts into practise, for I am always 
refreshed by yon.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert said no more, but 
soon after led her guest back to the 
house, and conversation drifted into other 
channels. 

Just as Lady Dorothy was leaving the 
house, she met Dimple coming into her 


“Are there Thiefs?” 75 

nursery tea. She held out her little 
hand gravely. 

“ I can shake hands and say good-by, 
for I’ve washed them in the greenhouse 
tub, and Jonas let me dry them in his big 
red handkerchy. And I’ve found a little 
frog I’m taking in to have tea with me. 
He’s in my pocket, would you like to see 
him?” 

“ No, thank you,” laughed Lady Doro- 
thy, stooping to kiss the soft cheek 
turned up so confidingly to her. “ I think 
you must come over and see me one day. 
Will your godmother spare you?” 

“ Oh, no ; I’m sure she can’t,” was the 
quick reply; “acause we work aside of 
each other in the garden every day ! ” 

“ I shall steal you away from her one day 
altogether, and take you to be my little 
girl.” And then, with a laugh.at Dimple’s 
astonished face, Lady Dorothy stepped in- 
to her carriage and was driven off, the 
child gazing after her with a strange kind 
of fascination. 


76 


Roses. 


She walked up-stairs very slowly, and 
not the antics of her frog when deposited 
in a basin of water could distract her mind 
from those farewell words. 

u Taylor, are there thief s in the country 
like in Lunnon ? ” she asked when seated 
at the tea-table in a clean pinafore. 

“ Why, yes, of course” said Taylor slow- 
ly ; “ the country is not free from those 
kind of folk.” 

“ And do they steal chillen ? ” 

“ Not that I am aware of. Are you 
thinking of gipsy folk ? ” 

“ No, lady thiefs.” 

“Well,” said Taylor looking at her 
little charge, “ whatever has put that into 
your head ? It makes me think of a story 
an aunt of mine told me once about a lady 
passing a pretty child on a road in a close 
carriage, and she stops her carriage, 
snatches hold of the child, and drives off 
with it, and it was never seen again from 
that day to this. They did say she took 
it off to France and adopted it, but the 


“ Are there Thiefs ? ” 77 

parents died of broken hearts within a 
twelvemonth.” 

Dimple’s eyes grew round and big at 
this tragic story, but not another word did 
she say. Only that night in bed, when 
Taylor had left her, she clutched hold of 
her father’s photograph that always went 
with her to bed, and a frightened sob es- 
caped her. 

“ She shan’t steal me, daddy ; you won’t 
let her, and God won’t let her. I’m 
granny’s little girl, next to yours, and I 
shall run away and hide when she comes 
again. Oh, daddy, come back soon, and 
take me to your little cottage, and we’ll 
let granny come and live with ns acause I 
love her.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert had other visitors be- 
sides Lady Dorothy who took a fancy to 
her little godchild; but Dimple, though 
not shy, would generally creep away when 
much noticed, and nothing would induce 
her to go out to tea. She was asked to 
the Vicarage, and to one or two other 


78 


Roses. 


houses in the neighborhood where there 
were children, but she would only clasp 
her godmother’s hand very tightly, and 
repeat over and over again, with the ut- 
most deliberation, “ I’ll never leave 
granny, thank you. I has my tea in her 
house evewy afternoon, and I don’t want 
to go away till I go to daddy.” 

Her father was never out of her 
mind. Many a wet afternoon was spent 
in the drawing-room with granny, concoct- 
ing and dictating wonderful letters to him, 
which granny put down in her clear flow- 
ing handwriting, and sent off by the very 
next post, so that “ daddy might get the 
letters very quick.” 

And when a foreign letter came for the 
little maiden, she was beside herself with 
excitement, and had it read to her over 
and over again by every member of the 
household, from granny down to Jonas. 
After every reading she would exclaim 
triumphantly, “ Isn’t daddy clever to 
write such a letter? You couldn’t send 


Are there Thiefs? 


79 


me such a nice one, could you ? ” And 
then the letter would be tucked inside her 
frock and carried to bed, and folded and 
refolded so many times that it would fall 
to pieces before a week was out. 

Her garden occupied all her time. 
She was sadly distressed at only having 
one rose bush in it, and Mrs. Fitzherbert 
promised to give her several small stan- 
dard trees in the autumn to bloom next 
summer. 

“ Why won’t they bloom now ? I want 
them now,” was the impatient rejoinder. 

u Why won’t you grow up into a 
woman at once ? ” Mrs. Fitzherbert said 
with her amused smile. “ You are not a 
bit bigger than when you came to me. I 
don’t get impatient at my little rose-tree 
growing so slowly. 

And Dimple pondered over this, and 
dimly understood. 

One afternoon Taylor took her out for 
a walk. She was sent on a message to a 
farm, and their way took them through 


80 


Roses. 


some green meadows and a wood. When 
they got to the wood, Dimple’s footsteps 
began to flag. 

“ Let us sit down. I’m so tired.” 

“We haven’t time now. Come along, 
there’s a good child ; the farm is just the 
other side of this wood.” 

“ Well, you go on, and I’ll wait for you 
here. I can’t walk any more.” 

Taylor hesitated. She saw the child 
was tired, and dreaded having to carry her 
home. 

“ Will you promise me to stay where 
you are till I come back ? ” 

“Yes, I promise.” And Dimple con- 
tentedly seated herself at the foot of an 
old oak, and began playing with the 
acorns on the ground. 

Taylor looked doubtfully at her, then 
quickened her steps onwards, whilst for 
some time her little charge chattered to 
herself in her own fashion, without a 
thought of anything but her pleasant 
surroundings. 


Are There Thiefs? 


81 


Suddenly she heard footsteps approach- 
ing her, and looking np saw to her aston- 
ishment a little boy. He did not notice 
her, and seemed in great trouble, for his 
eyes were red, and his chest still heav- 
ing with half-suppressed sobs. He was 
dressed in a shabby brown velveteen suit, 
and a ragged straw hat covered a dark, 
silky little head of hair. In his hand he 
carried a book, but every now and then 
he brushed his coat cuff across his eyes, 
as if to wipe away any stray tears that 
would find their exit. 

Dimple gazed at him in wonder. And 
then, as he came stumbling past her, his 
eyes on the ground, her sympathetic 
little heart prompted her to speak. 

6 


CHAPTER VI 


“Just the sort of person 
Pve been looking for ” 

“ TTI ! boy, what’s the matter? ” 

^ ^ The little boy started, and 
pulled himself up very erectly as his 
gaze met hers. 

“ Who are you?” he asked then, rather 
anxiously. “You’re aren’t a fairy, are 
you ? ” 

Dimple laughed merrily. “ No, I’m 
only a little girl, but you look as sad as 
daddy did. Come and sit down by me, 
and tell me all about it.” 

The boy considered for a moment, then 
promptly obeyed the invitation. Dimple 
had adopted a very motherly tone, and 
she took one of his hands in hers and 

patted it caressingly. 

82 


Just the Sort of Person.” 83 


“What’s your name, dear? Mine is 
Dimple. That’s what everybody calls me, 
I have a daddy the other side of the sea, 
and Fm going to him soon ; but I’m liv- 
ing with granny now.” 

“ My name is Archibald McBride. 
You can call me Archie if you like.” 

“ And what has made you so unhappy? ” 

Archie drew his head up a little proudly. 

“ Fve been in trouble over my lessons. 
Uncle Stephen has been so angry. I hate 
lessons ! ” 

“ I don’t go to school or do lessons. 
Granny says she teaches me lessons in 
the garden, but I don’t know when she 
does it. She never has a book. What’s 
your book ? ” 

“And then Archie’s face kindles with 
delight. 

“ It’s my fairy book. I’ve only had it 
since my last birthday. Hector gave it 
to me ; he is my uncle’s servant, you know, 
but he’s very nice to talk to, and he quite 
believes in fairies, and so do I.” 


84 


Roses. 


They chatted on as children do, freely 
and unconstrainedly. Archie told about 
a strange, far-away life in India, and of 
being sent home a few years before to a 
stern, silent uncle, who only relaxed his 
cold severity when he fell into a towering 
passion. 

“It’s always at lessons. I get fright- 
ened over my Latin, and he throws books 
at me, and I don’t mind that ; but he says 
I’ll live to be a disgrace to the family, and 
it’s because I’ve black hair and eyes like 
my mother, who wasn’t a Scotchwoman at 
all ! ” 

“ What’s the family ? ” asked Dimple, 
in awed tones. 

“ It’s just the family, that’s what he 
says. There are pictures of them up in 
the dining-room, and most of them wear a 
kilt. He says he would be ashamed to 
see my white skinny legs in a kilt, but 
Hector says I’ll never do credit to the 
family till I’m in one.” 

u And where’s your daddy ? ” 


Just tlio Sort of Person.” 85 


“ Do you mean my father? He and 
mother died before I left India. I hardly 
remember them. I’ve no one to take care 
of me here. I hate it! ” 

His dark eyes flashed out for a moment, 
then he dropped his head sorrowfully. 

“Are you ever tired?” asked Dimple 
eagerly. 

“ Yes, often.” 

“ And hungry ? ” 

“ Sometimes.” 

“ And do you feel as if nothing will be 
any good any more, and you’d better lie 
down and die ? ” 

“ Yes, that’s just it.” 

“ Then you’re just like daddy. And 
he used to say, when he came in tired, I 
was his greatest comfort. And if you 
like, I’ll be your comfort, and take care 
of you as I used to do of him. I’ve been 
looking out for a sad, unhappy person ever 
since I came to granny ; but you see she’s 
very happy and comfable, and Taylor is 
always smiling, and Bertha and Sarah 


86 


Eoses. 


won’t have nothing to do with me. And 
Jonas says I’m an imp, and children are 
born to plague grown-ups. But I’m very 
glad I’ve met you ; and now we’ll make 
out what we’ll do. For you’re just the 
sort of person I’ve been looking for ! ” 

Dimple’s rapid speech rather discon- 
certed her new friend. 

“ I’m a boy,” he said, feebly remon- 
strating ; “ boys don’t want girls to take 
care of them.” 

“ Oh, yes they do, always.” And Dim- 
ple nodded her head knowingly. “ Daddy 
always said a man without a woman is 
very badly off ; they can’t keep themselves 
tidy and mend their clothes ; and if they 
cook their chops, they make such a mess, 
and I always had to brush daddy’s clothes, 
and dust his boots, and put a flower in his 
coat.” 

Archie looked down at his shabby clothes 
and torn stockings with a sigh. 

“ I can’t keep myself tidy ; but we’re 
rather poor, and Hector says that Uncle 


Just the Sort of Person.” 87 


Stephen can’t afford a proper kilt for me. 
He says it would be splendid if I had one, 
for Mrs. Blaikie wouldn’t have to mend 
any stockings. You see, she. only lets 
me have one pair a week, and my knees 
seem to come through directly. I don’t 
think she’s a good mender. Hector says 
he’d like to see me in a kilt, for he’s sure 
Uncle Stephen would think me more in 
the family then ! ” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t mend stockings 
well,” said Dimple thoughtfully ; “ but 
Taylor does them beautifully. She has 
made me a lot of frocks, too, since I came 
to granny. Perhaps she could make you 
a kilt. It’s what Scotchmen wear, isn’t 
it? There was an old man in Lunnon in 
our street who used to go out and play the 
bagpipes. The boys used to call him 
“ Sandy,” but he was nearly always tipsy. 
Can you play bagpipes?” 

“ No, but Hector can. He plays in the 
kitchen sometimes.” 

Then, looking anxiously round, Archie 


Roses. 


said, “ I must go back ; it will be tea time. 
Will you come to tlie wood again ? ” 

“ Where do you live ? In a castle in 
the middle of it ? ” 

Archie laughed. 

“ Oh, no ; our house is just outside it 
on the high road, behind those pine trees. 
Where do you live ? ” 

“ In a beautiful house with a garden 
full of roses. You come and see it to- 
morrow, and I’ll show you my garden, 
and then we’ll talk about my taking care 
of you.” 

Archie smiled: he held out his hand, 
but Dimple lifted up her face and kissed 
him. 

“ Daddy always said my kisses were 
like dew to the thirsty earth. Do you 
feel better after my kiss ? ” 

Archie had not yet arrived at that stage 
of boyhood when girls’ kisses were 
abhorred. He answered promptly : 

“ Yes, I’ll let you kiss me because you 
don’t smell of whisky like Mrs. Blaikie. 


Just the Sort of Person.” 89 


And I’ll come and see you to-morrow. 
I’ll find tlie house by the roses ! ” 

He turned back and set off at a run. 
Dimple watched him with eager interest. 
Yet when Taylor came up and they 
walked home, not a word did she say 
about her new acquaintance. Her child- 
ish instinct told her that Taylor might 
not approve, and she judged it wiser to 
gain granny’s sanction first. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was out when they 
returned ; but after her nursery tea 
Dimple went in search of her. She found 
her seated with her knitting in the draw- 
ing-room by the open window, enjoying 
the sweet scents that were wafted in from 
her flowers by the evening breeze. 

“ Granny, I’ve found somebody at last 
to take care of. Let me tell you, do.” 

Impatient little hands got hold of the 
knitting, and made a place in granny’s 
lap to climb up to. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert kissed the eager face. 
She never checked her godchild’s con- 


90 Roses. 

fidences, and in consequence all tlie child- 
ish plans and purposes were taken at 
once to her. 

When her story was told, Dimple said 
breathlessly : 

“ And he’s coming to-morrow ; and 
may he stay to tea ? and will you tell 
Taylor to mend his stockings ? He’s 
much better than my dolly to play with.” 

“ And much nicer than your garden, 
little one ? Is that going to be pushed 
aside now for this new comer ? ” 

Dimple shook her head. 

u No, he shall help me with my garden ; 
he shall pick up all the weeds and take 
the nasty worms away.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert laughed as she stroked 
the sunny curls resting against her 
shoulder. 

“ I know who the little boy must be,” 
she said meditatively ; “ but I do not 
think his uncle cares to know his neigh- 
bors, and perhaps he may not like his 
nephew to come here to see you. I know 


Just the Sort of Person.” 91 


Mr. McBride slightly, but we have only 
just exchanged calls.” 

“ And is he like a wicked ogre, or like 
the uncle of the Babes in the Wood, 
granny ? ” 

u Oh, no, no ; you must not talk like 
that ! And another time, darling, never 
ask anybody to come and see you without 
asking me first.” 

“ But you’ll let him come, won’t you? 
Acause I do want somebody so dreadfully 
to take care of ! ” 

“ I shall be very glad for you to have a 
little companion, if he is a nice boy, and 
if his uncle is willing.” 

“ He’s a very nice boy,” Dimple said 
earnestly, as she twisted her godmother’s 
rings round with her restless little fingers. 
“ He had been crying, and his eyes were 
red, and he’s a very sad person. I like 
people who cry, don’t you, granny ? ” 

“We feel sorry for them, certainly.” 

“Yes, and I’m going to be his comfort, 
like I was to daddy.” 


92 


Roses. 


“ And must poor old granny be left out 
in the cold because she doesn’t cry and 
look a sad person ? ” 

For answer came a violent hug and 
throttling embrace. 

“ I love yon quite different granny, but 
I do love you next to daddy; I do really ! ” 

All the next morning Dimple was in a 
very excited state of mind, running back- 
wards and forwards to the garden gate, 
but it was not till half-past three in the 
afternoon that her little friend appeared. 
He looked perfectly radiant ; his straw 
hat was tilted back on his head, and he 
wore a red geranium in his buttonhole. 

Dimple surveyed him disapprovingly. 

“You should have come in crying,” she 
said severely ; “ that’s how I like you 
best.” 

“ Boys don’t cry when they go visit- 
ing,” returned Archie, quite unabashed. 

Dimple was too eager to show him her 
garden, to pursue the subject, and Archie 
admired and exclaimed so much at every- 


Just the Sort of Person.” 93 


thing he was shown, that he quite rein- 
stated himself in her favor. 

“ The pine trees shut out all the sun 
from our garden, and we haven’t got any 
roses.” , 

“ But you’ve got those red gewaniums 
that granny won’t have because they don’t 
smell.” 

And Dimple eyed the buttonhole with 
displeasure. 

“ I picked this off Mrs. Blaikie’s pots 
that are in the kitchen window ; don’t you 
like it?” 

“ No ; I was going to put a rose in your 
coat, and brush you, and now you’ve come 
to me all clean, and there’s nothing for 
me to do to you.” 

Dimple’s face was wobegoue ; but when 
Archie understood that she had taken the 
trouble to carry a clothes-brush about 
with her all the morning, in the glad hope 
of using it upon him, — when he was 
shown the special red rosebud that granny 
had said she might pick for him, and had 


94 


Roses. 


seen the very duster that was to wipe the 
dust off his boots, then he began to see 
the enormity of his offense, and the ne- 
cessity for remedying it at once. 

So, in a most obliging manner, he pulled 
the offending geranium out and stamped 
upon it with both feet, and then deliber- 
ately lying down on the gravel walk, he 
rolled himself over and over, till his coat 
and knickerbockers were liberally sup- 
plied with dust. 

“ Now,” he said triumphantly, “ you 
can clean me, and I’ll always come and see 
you as dirty as possible.” 

Dimple set to work at once with cheer- 
ful alacrity, and when she had brushed 
and dusted and polished to her heart’s 
content, she took him to the rose-bush, 
and was arranging the rose with a good 
many pats and flourishes in his coat 
when Mrs. Fitzherbert appeared upon the 
scene. 

“ Here he is, granny,” exclaimed 
Dimple, pushing him forward. “ I’ve 


Just the Sort of Person.’ 1 95 


been tidying him, but it’s taken rather 
long, for he had to untidy himself first. 
He make a dreadful mistake, but he prom- 
ised never to do it again.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert felt drawn at once to- 
wards the white-faced, wistful-looking lad, 
and kissing him tenderly, said, “ Does 
your uncle know you have come here, 
dear?” 

Archie’s dark eyes looked up in a 
frightened kind of way. 

“ No, I never tell him things ! ” 

“But I cannot have you come to see 
my little godchild without his permis- 
sion.” 

“ I — I — don’t think he would mind,” 
stammered poor Archie ; “he lets me go 
out every afternoon where I like, and 
never asks me questions. He teaches me 
lessons till one o’clock, and then he tells 
me to make myself scarce for the rest of 
the day.” 

“ Oh, granny,” pleaded Dimple, not 
liking to see the grave look on Mrs. 


96 


Roses. 


Fitzherbert’s face, “ don’t send him away ; 
do be kind to him ! ” 

“ I am not going to be unkind to him, 
darling ; but his uncle must know where 
he is, before I can let him stay here and 
play with you.” 

A silence fell on the little group. Mrs. 
Fitzherbert looked at the anxious faces of 
the children, and considered ; then she 
said with a smile : 

“ I will tell you what had better be 
done : Archie can stay an hour or so with 
you, and then I will drive him home 
myself, and ask his uncle if he will allow 
him to come to tea with you another day.” 

This being settled, the little friends 
were made perfectly happy, and Dimple’s 
busy tongue never ceased as she trotted 
Archie round the premises. 

She had taken him into the house and 
out again ; they had enjoyed a romp under 
the mulberry tree, and paid a visit to the 
greenhouse, where Jonas had in a spasm 
of generosity given them each a small 


“Just the Sort of Person. 1 ’ 97 


bunch of grapes ; and now they were lying 
on the grass in the shade, feeling rather 
tired and very warm. 

“ It’s a beautiful garden,” said Archie 
thoughtfully. “ A princess might almost 
live here.” 

“ Granny has been taking care of 
flowers all her life, she says ; and I’m one 
of her flowers now — a rosebud I am. Are 
you in God’s garden ? ” 

“ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ Why, granny says all little children 
ought to be in God’s garden. God has a 
big, big garden, and Satan comes along 
and is always trying to spoil the flowers ; 
and God and granny try to make me grow 
into a beautiful rose. Satan makes the 
weeds come, you know, and the prickly 
thistle, and the — the dandelion — I think 
that’s one of his flowers because Jonas is 
always cutting them out of the grass. 
And he makes worms come and eat up the 
roots ; and if you ever see a flower not 
growing properly, it’s Satan who has been 
7 


98 


Roses. 


spoiling it. I hope he won’t spoil me. 
What flower are you, I wonder ? ” 

This confused parable delighted Archie. 
“ Tell me more,” he said. “ What 
else does your granny say ? ” 

“ Oh, she tells me lots, and some I 
make up myself. I’ve got to smell sweet 
you know, and not mind when Taylor 
scolds, for she’s a kind of gardener’s boy, 
you know, like Bill, who weeds the gravel 
paths. And she helps granny to make 
me grow, and God helps granny.” 

Then Dimple started to her feet. 
“ Come here, Archie. I’ll show you what 
rose you are. Jonas says granny is very 
fond of her little Scotch roses, and you’re 
Scotch, aren’t you ? ” 

She dragged him after her to a corner 
of the old house where some pure white 
roses were climbing up a trellis. 

Archie looked, and his eyes sparkled. 
“ Yes, I’m a Scotch rose — Hector says 
I’m a white-faced weakling, — and I love 
climbing.” 


Just the Sort of Person.” 99 


“ They’ve got horrid little prickles 
though,” said Dimple. “ I think our 
prickles are our wicked tempers.” 

Archie nodded. u I’ve got a lot.” 

Then silently, hand in hand, they 
retraced their steps, both busy brains re- 
volving the problem of natural sin. 


CHAPTER VII 

“ A LITTLE 
CROOKED TREE ” 

'T^o Dimple’s delight, Mrs. Fitzherbert 
A took her in the pony carriagewith Ar- 
chie, when it was time for him to go home. 
When they reached Fir House, where the 
little boy lived, Dimple looked up at it 
curiously. It was a gloomy place, with a 
thick yew hedge in front, and the pines 
behind seemed to cast a black shadow upon 
it. The door was opened by a tall gaunt 
Scotchman in a shabby kilt, who showed 
them silently into an unused drawing- 
room, which had a close damp atmosphere, 
and a moment after Mr. McBride entered. 

He received Mrs. Fitzherbert courte- 
ously, though very stiffly. 

“ Has my nephew met with any ac- 
ioo 


“A Little Crooked Tree.” 101 

cident, or has he been trespassing on your 
grounds, madam, that you should have 
had the trouble of bringing him home ? ” 

“ Neither,” .said Mrs. Fitzherbert, smil- 
ing. “ He and my godchild have struck 
up an acquaintance when out, and I have 
allowed them to play together in my 
garden. I shall be very glad if you will 
permit him to come and see my little girl 
sometimes, but I told him it must not be 
without your permission.” 

Mr. McBride’s brows contracted as he 
gazed' sternly at his trembling nephew, 
and then at the smiling little maiden. 
Then he made a courtly little bow. 

“ I have the greatest respect for you, 
madam, and am quite sure my nephew 
will benefit by your influence. I would 
rather his playmates were sturdy boys to 
give him the bracing he requires. But if 
he prefers the gentler sex, I shall not 
stand in the way.” 

The shrug of his shoulders as he 
finished his speech brought the color in 


102 


Eoses. 


a rush to Archie’s face, who felt the con- 
tempt that was conveyed in that motion, 
but was too small to understand the rea- 
son for it. Dimple put her word in 
rather shyly. 

“ I want him to come and play with me,” 
she said ; “ and you will let him stay to 
tea whenever granny asks him, won’t 
you ?” 

“ My nephew can please himself,” was 
the reply. “ As long as he is in this 
house by eight o’clock every evening, he 
can go where he likes.” 

Then Archie braced himself up for a 
mighty effort. 

“ And may she come to tea with me 
sometimes, uncle ? ” 

Mr. McBride looked across at Mrs. 
Fitzherbert with a grim smile. 

“ Hospitality must be returned, I see. 
As long as you can amuse yourselves with- 
out disturbing me I shall make no objec- 
tion ; and for the tea, well, Mrs. Blaikie is 
housekeeper ; ask her.” 


A Little Crooked Tree.” 103 


Mrs. Fitzherbert did not stay much 
longer ; but when she and Dimple drove 
away, Mr. McBride laid his hand not un- 
kindly upon his nephew’s shoulder. 

“ Ay, but you’re a poor-spirited bairn, 
to be so terrified of coming to me yourself 
about the little lassie. Where did you 
pick her up ? ” 

“We found each other in the wood, 
uncle. I — I like her.” 

Mr. McBride laughed as he turned 
away. 

“*You would not be a McBride if you 
were not fond of the women folks, but you 
are full young yet to begin it.” 

And so the acquaintance, having now 
the full consent of the elders, progressed 
rapidly. Dimple mothered Archie to her 
heart’s content, and his lonely little soul 
was too pleased at the interest and affec- 
tion shown towards him to resent her 
patronage. 

Very serious talks did these two small 
people have as they wandered amongst 


104 


Roses. 


the loses together. Sometimes granny 
was called upon to solve a difficulty ; but 
more often they were put aside with that 
large-hearted faith of a little child : 

“ Oh, well, I don’t know how it is, but 
granny told me God said so, and it must 
be true.” 

Dimple stood at her nursery window 
.with a very discontented face. It was a 
wet day, and Archie had promised to come 
over that afternoon and help her with her 
garden. There was a tiny creeper that was 
to be trained up on a stick, some pansies 
wanted to be thinned out, and a few plants 
that had finished flowering were to be taken 
up and potted. And potting was a fasci- 
nating employment ; her little fingers fairly 
longed to be at it. She had had her din- 
ner ; granny was resting ; Taylor sitting 
in a low rocking-chair mending a torn little 
pinafore, but now and then nodding with 
sleep over it. Dimple looked across at her 
with an impatient sigh, then she mur- 
mured to herself : “He ought to come; 


“ A Little Crooked Tree.” 105 


lie ought to be ’shamed of himself to be 
afraid of the rain. He's a frightened baby 
boy, that’s what he is. If Taylor would 
let me, I would run out of doors myself — 
yes I would ! ” 

“ No, you wouldn’t ! ” said Taylor catch- 
ing the last words and rousing herself 
with a start. “ Come away from the 
window, child, and get something to do.” 
There’s nothing like idleness for making 
one feel cross.” 

“ I don’t feel cross,” said Dimple with 
a pout ; “ and I like being idle. Oh, oh ! 
here is Archie in such a funny long coat, 
he has come at last ! ” 

She darted to the door and scampered 
down-stairs as fast as her little legs could 
carry her. She met Archie with a radiant 
face. 

“ Oh, how wet you are ! How lovely ! 
Now I’ll dry you and pretend you’re 
daddy come home. Let me take your 
coat, and come up-stairs. I tell you what 
we’ll do : we won’t go to Taylor, but we’ll 


106 Roses. 

go to the box-room and have lovely games. 
Come on, quick ! ” 

She dragged her breathless guest up 
the stairs to the end of a long passage, 
and together they entered the dusty un- 
used room, that is always such a delight 
to children’s hearts. Archie was made 
to take off his wet boots, and Dimple 
brought him a pair of her own shoes to 
wear. They were a little too small, but 
Archie ingeniously tied them on with 
string, and stumbled about with them 
quite satisfactorily. Then for an hour 
they were quite absorbed with their sur- 
roundings. The boxes served in turns 
for a robbers’ Cave, an enchanted castle, 
a train, and a ship, and at last heated and 
dusty they sat down on the floor to rest, un- 
til their active brains received fresh ideas. 

“ I wish I was grown up,” said Dimple 
suddenly : “ I wouldn’t be so stupid as 
some grown-up people are, — like Taylor. 
She likes to sit in a chair and go to sleep 
in the day time, — just fancy ! ” 


“ A Little Crooked Tree.” 107 


“ What would you do ? ” asked Archie. 

“ I would have a house with a lot of 
rooms and greenhouses. I would have 
roses growing up the walls inside the 
house as well as out, and then I would 
fetch trains full of poor children from 
Lunnon, and we would play games in 
every one of the rooms, even the drawing- 
room, and have tea parties and dinner 
parties, and I would dress them all up in 
nice clothes and send them back to 
Lunnon again.” 

“ They wouldn’t like to go back,” 
objected Archie ; “I shouldn’t ! ” 

“ Nor more should I,” said Dimple 
thoughtfully. “P’raps I’d build a lot of 
little cottages just outside my big one 
and let them live there and be happy ever 
after.” 

“I saw a boy to-day who came from 
London yesterday. He’s a cripple, and he 
has come down to stay with his aunt. Mrs. 
Blaikie knows her, and she’s going to have 
her and the boy to tea to-morrow night.” 


108 


Roses. 


Dimple became interested at once. 

“ Do let me see him. Really from 
Lunnon has be come ? P’raps he knows 
Mrs. Briggs. There was a cripple boy in 
onr street who used to make faces at 
me. He used to wait till I came to the 
doorstep with daddy, and then, when I 
waved my hand and called out “ Good- 
by and good luck ! ” — that’s what daddy 
always liked me to say — he used to 
shake his fist behind daddy’s back 
and call out, Bad bye, bad luck ! ’ 
And one day he ran after me on his 
crutches! ” 

“ What did you do ? ” 

“ I stopped and told him he was a 
wicked boy, and God would punish him 
worse than making his legs bad if he didn’t 
take care ; and then he called me names, 
and then Mrs. Briggs told me I was never 
to speak to him again. And I didn’t, 
never after ! But I should like to see 
your cripple boy. You ask me to tea to- 
morrow, do 1 ’• 


“A Little Crooked Tree.” 109 

“I can’t unless I ask Mrs. Blaikie 
first.” 

“ Well, ask Her and come and tell me 
to-morrow morning after you’ve done your 
lessons.” 

“ All right, I will. Now what shall we 
play at ? ” 

“ Let’s have a see-saw with that long 
piece of wood over granny’s big trunk.” 

And so their games went on till nearly 
tea-time, when Taylor came to hunt for 
them, and was not over pleased at the 
dusty dirty state in which she found 
them. 

Dimple got her invitation the next day, 
and appeared at Fir House in due time. 
Tea was in the kitchen, and she was 
formally introduced to a pale-faced sharp- 
eyed boy on crutches, who eyed her up 
and down in silence, for a minute, then 
said, “ You’re a rum little un ! ’’ 

“ Hush, hush,” said his aunt with a 
warning nudge. “ She’s a little lady. 
You mustn’t speak to her like that.” 


110 


Roses. 


He grinned, but said no more, and tea 
went off very quietly. But afterwards, 
when the three children were out in the 
old garden, their tongues unloosed. 

Tim Porter the cripple, was full of 
London airs, and Archie listened to his 
grand sayings with great respect. Not so 
Dimple. Her experiences in London had 
not been pleasant ones, and she looked 
back to it with the greatest horror and 
dislike. 

u I hope I shall never see it again/’ she 
said sturdily. “ It makes people ill and 
poor and misable. And I shouldn’t won- 
der” — here she turned to Tim with a pity- 
ing look — “ I shouldn’t wonder if it had 
made you a cripple ! ” 

“ Ain’t you a greenhorn ! ” said Tim 
with scorn. “ I made myself a cripple, and 
no one h’else has anythink to do with it. 
Why did I ? ’Cos I were tired of bein’ 
like other people and wanted to be pecoo- 
liar ! This was the way of it. I were 
skylarkin’ over some very high boardin’s. 


A Little Crooked Tree.” Ill 


I always was h’acrobatically inclined, and 
in course I could beat the t’other chaps 
hollow. I was a turnin’ a Catherine wheel 
on a bit of a board, when there was a gust o’ 
wind, and over I went like a nine-pin, 
and pitched on the brick foundation of a 
shop they was a-buildin’ ! I was picked 
up for dead and taken to the horse- 
pital, and there I were for over four 
bloomin’ months ; and when I come out, 
’twas like you see me, only a bit more 
shaky ! ” 

“ Well,” said Dimple, “ if you’d lived in 
the country, you wouldn’t have had any 
high boardings to climb. It’s only Lun- 
non has those ugly things ! ” 

Tim ignored this thrust. 

“ But if h’I’m a cripple, I can run and 
jump like any other chap. You just try 
a race with me. Get a couple of sticks 
and keep your left knee bent and see who 
wins ! ” 

Archie was delighted with this novel 
idea. He ran into the house and returned 


112 


Roses. 


with an umbrella and stick of his uncle’s 
that he had found in the hall. 

Dimple entered into the spirit of the 
game. She started them off and stationed 
herself at the goal — an old elm — clapping 
her hands and dancing up and down with 
delight at Archie’s cumbrous and unavail- 
ing efforts to keep pace with nimble Tim. 
Tim had strapped one of Archie’s feet up 
very securely, to prevent any unfairness 
in the race, and then had generously 
given him fifty yards’ start. They were 
in a meadow at the end of the garden, 
and Tim reached the goal hardly out of 
breath. He looked back at Archie with 
a laugh. 

“ How would you like it ? ” he de- 
manded, alluding to his crippled con- 
dition, of which he . seemed almost 
proud. 

Archie stumbled up, hot, panting, and 
disconsolate. As he reached the tree, he 
tripped over one of its old roots and fell 
heavily ; there was a sharp crack, and he 


“A Little Crooked Tree.” 113 

was lifted to his feet unhurt ; but the um- 
brella stick was broken in two. 

“ It’s uncle’s best umbrella! ” gasped 
Archie as he sat down on the grass, and 
tried in haste to untie his leg. Tim took 
it up and examined it. Then he gave 
Archie a meaning wink. 

“ I’ll put it back, young shaver ; don’t 
you fret. I’ll make it look as right as a 
trivet, and the old bloke will never be the 
wiser. We’ll keep it dark ! ” 

Archie had released his foot and now 
stood upright with a pale anxious face. 
He glanced from Tim to Dimple, who 
stood with round eyes looking at the 
cripple. 

“ Uncle will be so angry if he knows,” 
he faltered. 

Then Dimple shook back her curls 
with a little impatient gesture. 

“You never tell stories, Archie, do 
you ? ” 

“ I — I try not to, but — p’raps he won’t 
ask me anything about it.” 


114 


Roses. 


“ Granny told me yesterday,” said 
Dimple in her little breathless way, “ that 
hiding things you did wrong, and telling 
stories, was being crooked. She showed 
me a little crooked tree — it was a rose-tree 
— and it came to her crooked, and she 
wouldn’t put it with her nice roses, and 
so it’s in the dark shrubbery where no 
one sees it ; and I told her I’d never be 
crooked — never, and you oughtn’t to be 
crooked, Archie. If you begin crooked, 
granny said, you’ll go on getting crook- 
eder and crookeder. Shall I run and tell 
your uncle about it ? He won’t be very 
angry with me ! ” 

“ You’re a pair of softies,” said Tim 
with a mocking laugh ; “ ’tis only babies 
blab of all they does ! ” 

Dimple turned upon him like a flash. 

“ You’re a wicked boy, and you’re 
crooked all over, and me and Archie aren’t 
babies, so there ! ” 

Then Archie straightened his slim little 
figure. He was dreadfully frightened of 


“A Little Crooked Tree.” 115 


his uncle, and secretly longed that Dimple 
should go to him ; but he had a little of 
the Scotch pride in his veins, which stood 
him in good stead now.” 

“ I’ll tell uncle myself. Give me the 
umbrella, Tim ! ” 

Tim relinquished it, muttering, “ You- 
’re a young fool.” Then he threw him- 
self down on the grass and began whist- 
ling. Dimple beamed all over, and seated 
herself by his side. 

“ We’ll wait here for you, Archie. Be 
quick ! ” 

Archie preserved a brave front till he 
reached the house. Then as he approached 
the study door he trembled all over. Twice 
he crept up to the door, twice he came 
away, and then with sobbing breath he 
wandered into the empty dining-room and 
looked up at his grim ancestors on the 
walls, as if hoping they would inspire him 
with the courage he now needed. 

Then he came to a standstill and bowed 
his head. 


116 


Roses. 


“ O God, do make me brave like the 
family, and don’t let my knees shake so. 
Please do help me, for Jesus Christ’s sake. 
Amen.” 

Surely and swiftly did the great God 
stoop from heaven to strengthen one of 
His little ones. 

Archie went back to the study door, 
knocked, and was admitted, and though 
his lips were white and strained he held 
himself bravely. 

“ Please, uncle, I’m very sorry, but I’ve 
broken your umbrella ? ” 

Mr. McBride wheeled round in his chair, 
and looked at his small nephew with cold, 
merciless eyes. 

“ And since when have you taken upon 
yourself to appropriate other people’s be- 
longings ? ” 

Archie’s pale cheeks were crimson now, 
but he did not falter, though a lump 
seemed to rise in his throat. 

“ I took it out into the garden to play 
with. I didn’t think ! ” 


A Little Crooked Tree.” 117 


“ Pshaw ! ‘ Didn’t think ! ’ And you 

never will, for there isn’t an ounce of 
manliness or sense in your miserable little 
body. When I was your age, it would 
have been a gun and not an umbrella that 
would have been my pastime ! Did you 
not have half a crown on your last birth- 
day? Is it spent?” 

“ No.” 

u Fetch it here. It will go towards 
remedying the mischief you have done.” 

Archie slipped from the room, returning 
very soon with a little holland bag from 
which he produced his treasured coin. 
He placed it on the table and then shyly 
put down two pennies and a halfpenny by 
the side of it. 

“ I’ve got these besides,” he said ; 
“ Hector gave them to me.” 

Mr. McBride looked at the little fellow 
with a queer light in his eye. Then he 
said shortly, “ Ay, leave them, and if ever 
you take a possession of mine again for a 
plaything, I will giva you a good thrash- 


118 


Roses. 


ing. Now go, and leave me in peace. Yon 
never will get beyond your babyhood ! ” 

His words stung his nephew far more 
than blows would have done, and outside 
in the hall Archie’s erect little figure 
drooped at once. All the spirit was taken 
out of him, and he felt more fit to creep 
into a corner and cry, than run out into 
the sunshine and join his companions in 
play. 

Dimple and Tim were still on the grass. 
They had been silent for a few minutes 
after Archie had left them, then Tim said 
a little discontentedly, “ Don’t think much 
of this ’ere country. I h’ain’t seed a 
decent chap since I come. Not much fun 
in lyin’ ’ere like an old sheep.” 

“ What would you like to play at ? ” 
inquired Dimple. 

“ I ain’t quite a babby, thank’ee. You 
are jest a couple of hinfants, that’s what 
ye are. I’m a goin’ to have a ‘smoke.” 

He pulled some brown paper out of his 
pocket, rolled it up into the shape of a 


A Little Crooked Tree.” 119 


cigar, then produced some matches, and 
lighting it, lay on his back and puffed 
away with the air of an habitual smoker. 
Dimple gazed at him with astonishment. 

“ Is it nice ? ” she inquired with in- 
terest. 

Tim would not deign to reply. Then 
Dimple continued, watching him gravely, 
“ I expect you’re one of the roses that 
grow as they like. Granny says some 
boys and girls do. I think it must be 
rather nice, isn’t it, not to have anybody 
saying ‘ you’re not to do this,’ and 1 you 
mustn’t go there,’ and 1 you must do what 
I tell you.’ ” 

“ I’d like to see the bloke who would 
order me ! ” said Tim, taking his paper 
cigar out of his mouth, and letting the 
smoke slowly issue from his nostrils. 

“ Yes, but you won’t grow up so nice,” 
said Dimple, still pursuing in her mind 
some of granny’s wholesome truths ; 
“ nobody ever does ; they get all wild and 
crooked, and aren’t no use at all ! ” 


120 


Roses. 


“ Shut up, and don’t preach at me. 
Gals are no fun ! ” 

He got up, and walked away. Dimple 
waited, and Archie soon came out. He 
tried to assume a cheerful air as he ap- 
proached her. 

“ Was he very angry? ” Dimple asked. 

“ Well, he was rather. Where’s Tim? ” 

“ Gone away. I don’t like him, 
Archie : he tried to make us crooked, and 
he smokes ! ” 

“ I don’t think I like him much either.” 

“We’ll forget all about him. Come 
and give me a swing.” 

Archie obeyed with alacrity, and the 
rest of the evening passed very pleasantly. 
When Dimple was going home, she said 
to her little friend confidentially, “ I ex- 
pect poor Tim hasn’t got any gardener to 
take care of him, and that’s why he is so 
funny ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


“ A Boy for 
Sixpence a Day ! ” 

HTHE next afternoon, as Archie and 
^ Dimple were playing together, 
Dimple ran in to ask her godmother for 
something and found Lady Dorothy in the 
drawing-room. For a moment she hesi- 
tated, then went forward and held out her 
little hand very gravely. 

Lady Dorothy seized hold of her rather 
impulsively. “ Won’t yon give me a kiss, 
you little mite ? Mrs. Fitzherbert, when 
are you going to let me have her for a 
little? I have coveted her ever since I 
first saw her. Shall I take you home with 
me to-day, Dimple ?” 

But this was too much for Dimple’s 

equanimity. She broke away with a little 
121 


122 


Roses. 


cry of terror, and fled out into the garden 
again, where she joined her playfellow 
breathless and perturbed. Archie was 
busy with the garden shears, which had 
been purloined from the tool-house while 
Jonas was away. He was trying to clip 
the box border round Dimple’s garden, 
but dropped them in haste when he saw 
her face. 

“ Has anybody been angry ? ” he asked. 

“ It’s a — a lady who is trying to steal 
me away from granny. I know she’ll do 
it one day. She will take me away in her 
carriage, and you won’t ever see me any 
more ! And what will you do then, 
Archie?” 

“ I shall come after you,” said Archie 
sturdily ; “ and fetch you away again !”. 

“ Will you, really ? How will you 
do it?” 

“ I’ll fetch some soldiers, or — or some 
policemen, and we’ll break into her house, 
and take her to prison, and bring you 
home again.” 


“A Boy for Sixpence a Day!” 123 

Dimple’s face brightened. 

“ Now promise me true and faithful 
you’ll do it, Archie, and then I shan’t be 
frightened ever again.” 

Archie promised with his head erect, 
and hands clenched with determination, 
and Dimple heaved a deep sigh of 
relief. 

“ I won’t be stoled away if I can help 
it,” she said; “but if I can’t help it, I 
shall expect you to come and take me 
away from her. She frightens me, but 
I’ll creep out of her way, and then she 
won’t be able to catch me.” 

Many and earnest were the conversa- 
tions held about the kilt ; and now that 
Dimple had seen the array of warlike 
chieftains hanging in their old oak frames 
on the dining-room walls at Fir House 
she was more than ever determined that 
Archie should have one. “ We must ask 
God to help us,” she said, looking at her 
little friend with grave eyes. “ I’m sure 
your uncle will think you’re quite in the 


124 


Roses. 


family when you’re dressed in one. It 
will make yon look much fatter, Archie. 
How much money does it take to buy one ? 
We’ll save up our money all we can, and 
then we’ll go to the shops and get one.” 

“ I shouldn’t take your money for a 
kilt,” said Archie, drawing up his slender 
little figure rather proudly. “ The Mc- 
Brides have never been beggars, Hector 
says ; and I mean to earn some money as 
soon as ever I can, and buy one for my 
self ! ” 

“ How will yon earn it ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

Silence fell on the pair for a moment, 
broken by Dimple with a flushed eager 
face : 

“ There’s a boy not much bigger than 
you that comes and weeds in granny’s 
garden. Jonas says his back is too stiff 
to pick up weeds, and Bobby gets six- 
pence a day. He’s only a poor boy 
acourse, bub he’s not as clever as you ; he 
can’t tell me nothing when I ask him. He 






W$sj$ 





mm 


v i 

' TpS* 





“ They had not gone far before they met Tim on his crutches.” 

[Page 125 . 



“A Boy for Sixpence a Day!” 125 

doesn’t know kow many leaves grow on a 
rose ! ” 

Archie’s eyes sparkled. “ If anybody 
would let me weed their gardens for them, 
I should be very glad.” 

“ That’s what you’ll do,” exclaimed 
Dimple, joyfully ; “ and to-morrow after- 
noon, we’ll go and find a nice untidy 
garden, and ask the people to let you 
weed, and then you must put the money 
in a money box, and when it’s quite full, 
we’ll buy a kilt ! ” 

They separated in the best of spirits, 
and for once Dimple did not take Mrs. 
Fitzherbert into her confidence. Circum- 
stances helped to prevent it, as Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert was staying with friends for a 
night, and did not come home till after 
the children had arranged to start. 

At three o’clock they set off hand in 
hand down the high road in quest of 
honest work. They had not gone far be- 
fore they met Tim on his crutches. 
Neither was best pleased at the sight of 


126 


Roses. 


him, for since that unfortunate incident 
of the broken umbrella they had agreed 
not to play with him again. 

“ He calls us babies,” said Dimple in- 
dignantly, “ and he isn’t a nice boy ! ” 

“ Haven’t you gone back to Lunnon 
yet?” she asked him now, as he came 
shuffling tip with a grin of recogni- 
tion. 

“ Well, do it look like it ? Where may 
ye be goin ’ ? ” 

“ We’re going to look for work,” said 
Archie, dropping Dimple’s hand and try- 
ing to speak in a manly tone. 

“ Yes, he’s going to earn some money, 
and we’re too busy to stop,” said Dimple, 
breathlessly. 

“ My eye ! Ye’re two little cures ! I’ll 
put you up to a dodge or two if ye’ll come 
with me ? ” 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

Tim did not reply for a minute, but 
winked at Archie knowingly. 

“ Send that gal home, and foller me. 


“ A Boy for Sixpence a Day ! ” 127 

I’m goin’ to make my fortin’ when I get 
back to London.” 

“ I’m not a gal,” said Dimple, flushing 
with anger, “ and you shan’t take Archie 
away. We don’t want you ! ” 

“ How would you make your fortune ? ” 
asked Archie, standing in the middle of 
the road and eyeing the cripple irreso- 
lutely. 

Tim chuckled. “ You folks in the 
country are awful soft. You wastes and 
throws away what London chaps would 
cry their eyes out fur ! I’m a goin’ to 
take some h’old hampers back with me. 
My h’aunt has given ’em to me, and I 
promise you they’ll be chock full — most 
enough to set up a shop.” 

“ What will you put in them?” asked 
Dimple, becoming interested. 

“ One on ’em is to be full of cress, 
there’s a stream full of it close by, and 
the t’other will have wood, which jest rots 
for the picking up, and the t’other 2 — well 
I promises to go shares in the profits if 


128 


Roses. 


ye’ll help me. Are you up to climbing ? ” 

He addressed Archie. 

“ Yes, I can climb trees, if that’s what 
you mean ! ” 

“ That’s the ticket. Come on ; and if 
the gal won’t split, she can come too.” 

Dimple’s curiosity was aroused. After 
a little further discussion, Tim led the 
way down a narrow lane, talking grandly 
of the money he was going to turn over 
in his pocket by this enterprise. He 
paused at length outside a high wooden 
fence. 

“ Just you look over there, young ’un ! ” 

Archie pulled off his jacket, and was 
up the fence in a twinkling. Sitting as- 
tride, he looked down the other side. 

“ It looks like an old orchard,” he 
said ; “ but there are only a few cows 
grazing.” 

“ Nothin’ else ? ” 

“ There’s one — two apple trees, and 
some apples on the ground, hardly any 
on the trees ! ” 


“A Boy for Sixpence a Day! 1 ’ 129 


“ That’s the ticket ! ” shouted Tim, 
bobbing up and down on his crutches ex- 
citedly. “ Them apples ain’t wanted, so 
they be rottin’ and wastin’ there for folks 
to take the trouble of pickin’ ! ” 

“ But,” said Archie, “ they aren’t ours 
to pick ; the field belongs to some one ! ” 
“ Now you jest take my word for it, and 
slip down and throw us over a few. I can 
see ’em through a chink, and Londoners 
are wonderful fond of a bit o’ fruit. I 
could sell ’em at four a penny. Shake 
the trees while you be about it. I know 
the h’owner o’ the field ; my h’aunt be a 
neighbor of his. And ’ow d’ you know 
I h’ain’t been and asked his permission? 
He don’t want these h’apples ; he sez 
they’re worthless. I does want ’em, and 
I’ll be obliged if you jest does what I’d 
do, if my legs wasn’t in the way. ’Tisn’t 
much a poor cripple can do, is it now, un- 
less some’un gives him a ’elpin’ hand ! ” 
Archie looked helplessly from Tim to 

Dimple who hardly took in the situation. 

20 


130 


Roses. 


“ Did the man tell you you might come 
and take them, Tim ? ” she demanded, 
adding quickly, “ acause I remember, in 
Lunnon, seeing two boys being taken to 
prison by a policeman, and daddy said 
their pockets were full of apples, and I 
heard one call out that he’d picked them 
up in the street, and Archie and me aren’t 
going to be thiefs, and — and I think you’d 
better come down, Archie ; you’ll fall ! ” 
At this juncture brisk steps were heard 
in the road, and Mrs. Howard made her 
appearance. Tim had promptly disap- 
peared, and Archie looked rather sheepish 
from his high post. 

“ Why,” exclaimed that good lady, 
recognizing the children at once, “what 
are you two pickles doing here? Are you 
trying to break your legs, young man ? 
Come down at once. What are you doing 
here, so far from home ? ” 

Archie thankfully slipped down on the 
road again and looked about for Tim. 
Dimple replied with knitted brows : — 


“ A Boy for Sixpence a Day ! ” 181 

“ Archie and me are out for a walk, and 
we’re just thinking about some apples.” 

“Don’t tell me you are thinking of 
robbing orchards,” said Mrs. Howard. 
“ What would your granny say ? Did 
she send you out ? I’m afraid you’re in 
mischief. You had better come along 
with me. I am only just going to a cot- 
tage quite near, and then I will take you 
home. Why, Archie McBride, I’m 
ashamed of you ! I thought you were a 
little gentleman ! ” 

Archie said nothing, but Dimple 
dragged hold of his hand. 

“ We’re tired of this walk, please,” she 
said. “ We didn’t mean to come here, 
and we’re going back, and we aren’t in 
mischief, and acourse we wouldn’t rob 
orchards ! ” 

She set off running, with Archie at her 
heels ; Mrs. Howard looked after them 
with a shrug of her shoulders, and went 
her way. 

When the children slackened their 


132 


Roses. 


pace, Dimple said, “We won’t never 
speak to Tim again. He’s a wicked boy, 
he ran away and hid behind a tree when 
Mrs. Howard came, I saw him ! I believe 
he wanted you to steal, Archie! ” 

“ I believe he did,” said Archie seri- 
ously. “ Mrs. Blaikie said last night his 
aunt said he was a handful, and she was 
going to send him home. I always 
thought cripples were so good ; they are 
in books ! ” 

“Yes, but not when they come from 
Lunnon,” said Dimple convincingly. 
“ And now, Archie, we must begin to find 
you work. There’s a little old house 
granny took me past once, and it’s just 
along this road. You look through an 
iron gate, and there’s a gravel path 
full of weeds. I think we’ll try there 
first ! ” 

She spoke with much assurance, and 
they plodded on hopefully till they 
reached it. Archie peered through the 
gate anxiously. 


“A Boy for Sixpence a Day!” 133 


“ I’m afraid nobody lives here,” he 
said. 

“ Oh yes, they do. An old old man in 
a cap and tassel walks up and down 
smoking his pipe. I’ve seen him. Let’s 
pull this bell, Archie ! Help me to pull. 
It’s so stiff ! ” 

They were exerting all their strength, 
when down the gravel path walked the 
old gentleman that Dimple had described. 
He looked up as the bell rang out, and 
shook his stick fiercely at the little faces 
peeping in. 

“ Go away, you scoundrels, you vaga- 
bonds ! I’ll have the police after you ! 
A taste of the birch is w T hat you want ! ” 

“ Please, we really want to come in,” 
cried Dimple in a piteous tone ; “ we’ve 
got to speak to you on aticular busi- 
ness ! ” 

The old man puffed and snorted as he 
hobbled up to the gate, and surveyed the 
children with angry, curious gaze. 

Dimple was quite unabashed. 


134 


Roses. 


“ I’ve brought you a boy, — a very nice 
boy he is, who will weed your garden for 
sixpence a day. He can’t come all the 
day, you know, for he has to do lessons 
aside weeding, but he’ll do his very best, 
and won’t play with the cat, like Bobbie 
does, when Jonas isn’t looking ! ” 

The earnest eyes and bobbing curls of 
the little speaker arrested her hearer’s 
attention. 

Archie struck in, feeling the silence of 
the old gentleman augured well. Thrust- 
ing his hands into his pockets, he pro- 
duced a paper bag. 

“ I’ve got the salt to put in the holes, 
and prevent the weeds coming up again, 
and I’ve a pocket knife to take them out 
with, and I promise you faithful I’ll take 
up the roots and not cut them off at the 
top.” 

“ All for sixpence a day,” repeated 
Dimple with emphasis. “ And he’ll 
be able to begin now — this very after- 
noon ! ” 


“ A Boy for Sixpence a Day ! ” 135 

The amazement and bewilderment of 
the old gentleman was considerable. 

“ What the dickens are you after ! 
Not right in the head I fancy ; or is it 
some joke you’re trying? Go away — go 
away ! Can’t I be free from bothering 
children here ? ” 

“ Oh, please, please,” cried Dimple en- 
treatingly, “ listen to us. You might try 
Archie. Your garden has got such heaps 
and heaps and heaps of weeds, more than 
anybody else’s, and Archie does want to 
earn some money. If you won’t tell, 
we’ll tell you, but it’s a great secret. He 
wants to buy a kilt, so as to properly be- 
long to the fam’ly, and he wants to get 
it with his own money. Weeding is the 
only thing we can think of ; but acourse 
he can do lots asides. He could water 
your flowers ! ” 

The old man chuckled, and dimly be- 
gan to see that there was an earnestness 
of purpose in these young people’s mo- 
tives that quite acquitted them of the sin 


136 Eoses. 

of practical joking. He stood tapping 
his stick on the gravel, and questioning 
and cross-questioning, till he had solved 
the riddle, and then said abruptly : “ As 
a reward for your originality, I will en- 
gage you straight away to weed my paths, 
and I will give you fourpence an hour if 
you do it in silence ! ” 

Dimple heaved a great sigh of relief. 
She had not expected any difficulties in 
their quest ; and when the old gentleman 
opened the gate and let Archie in, she 
asked inquiringly, “ And what am I to 
do?” 

“ I think you had better go home,” was 
the gruff response. 

Dimple stood, one chubby finger in her 
mouth, considering, whilst Archie was al- 
ready down on his knees, tackling his work. 

“ P’raps I’d better,” she said slowly, 
“ unless there’s anything else you’d like 
me to do. Archie and me generally play 
in the afternoons. I think I shall feel 
rather alone if I go back.” 


“A Boy for Sixpence a Day!” 137 

The old gentleman shook his head 
rather testily. 

“ Now run away, run away ; I can’t 
stand chatter, and the female tongue 
never stops ; the boy can weed if he 
doesn’t talk, but I can’t open my prem- 
ises to idlers.” 

Dimple said no more ; her mission was 
done ; and she trotted home contentedly, 
though feeling rather forlorn. She found 
“ granny ” looking for her in the garden, 
wanting to take her for a drive ; and when 
a little later the small maiden was seated 
opposite her godmother in the pony trap, 
with solemn eyes, she unfolded to her 
the success of her plan. Mrs. Fitzherbert 
was touched and amused, and a little un- 
easy at the extreme independence of her 
little godchild. 

“You must never do such a thing again 
without telling me. And I do not ap- 
prove of your going to strange houses in 
such a fashion.” 

“ But, granny, it had to be done ; it was 


138 


Roses. 


very easy. You just go tc a very weedy 
garden, and ask for work. You see, Ar- 
chie will get ever so many fourpennies, 
won’t he ? How many fourpennies will 
buy a kilt? Do you know? Will he 
have enough in twenty days ? ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert laughed merrily. 

“ Oh, you children ! Where are you 
going to keep these pennies ? ” 

“ In a money box. Daddy used to have 
a money box to spend in taking me drives 
on the top of a ’bus, and to the Zoo, but 
somehow we had to break open the box 
very often for other things too. But 
Archie and me will never break open this 
one till it’s quite full.” 

“ And we will keep it on a table in my 
room,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert brightly. 
“ I will keep it for you. Archie deserves 
a kilt if he is going to work for it, but I 
don’t know what his uncle will say.” 

u Oh, granny, it’s going to be a great 
great surprise. Archie isn’t going to say 
a word about it. But he’ll dress up and 


“ A Boy for Sixpence a Day ! ” 139 

walk in to see kis uncle one day, and will 
be thought quite one of the family ; 
Hector says so ! ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert smiled, and said no 


more. 


CHAPTER IX 


“ She’s Stoled Me!” 

“ HTAYLOR, let me go ! I shall ! I 
^ shall ! I know the way, and I won’t 
be lost, and I shall go ! ” 

Struggling in the grasp of Taylor, with 
hot, flushed face and angry eyes, Dimple 
suddenly obtained her freedom, and 
dashed down-stairs, only to run into the 
arms of “granny,” who was watering her 
plants in the hall. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert looked so astonished 
that Dimple came to a standstill, abashed 
and confused. She had more fear of her 
gentle little godmother than of any one 
else in the house, and could not withstand 
the grave scrutiny of those soft blue eyes. 

“ I may go and look through the iron 
140 


“ She’s Stoled Me ! 


141 


gate at Archie, mayn’t I, granny? I’ve 
told Taylor I shall, and she says I shan’t. 
She’s so cross, and Bertha is crosser, and 
— and Jonas is puffickly beastly ! ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert took hold of a very 
hot little hand, and led Dimple into her 
morning-room. She did not say a word, 
only sat down in her easy-chair by the 
window, and drew the child closely to her. 
It was by no means the first tussle with 
Taylor, and, unfortunately, being much 
more nimble than her captor, Dimple 
generally managed to escape, knowing 
Taylor was too lazy to pursue her far. 

“ When you have recovered breath, my 
dear child, you may explain matters.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert never called Dimple 
“ a dear child ” unless something was 
wrong, and Dimple stood with hanging 
head before her. 

At last she made an effort to defend 
herself. 

“ Granny dear, don’t be angry. I do 
feel very alone without Archie. How can 


142 


Eoses. 


I see him if I don’t go to see him ? He 
hasn’t time to come and play with me ! 
And Jonas — Jonas said, when I told him 
a little about it, that he never heard of a 
boy wanting to leave trousers and go back 
to pett’coats ; he said Archie had better 
get long baby clothes and a bib ! I hate 
Jonas ! And then I told him I hoped he 
would fall down and break his leg, and 
then I ran up very quick to get my hat, 
and Taylor said I must stay in, acause it 
was going to rain ; and then we lighted 
together, and I pulled off one of her apron 
strings; and I may go to see Archie, 
mayn’t I ? He will get quite tired of pull- 
ing up weeds if he has nobody to talk to.” 

“ I think my little rose tree wants 
weeding,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert, looking 
gravely at the tumbled curly head and 
pouting face before her. “ If she doesn’t 
try and pull up the weeds herself, granny 
must try and do it for her.” 

Two startled gray eyes looked up at 


once. 


She’s Stoled Me! 


143 


“Yes, I see a lot of weeds this after- 
noon. A nasty ugly one has just cropped 
up, called disobedience ; and impatience 
and self-will have been up some time, and 
are growing bigger every day. What are 
we to do with them ? Let them grow and 
spoil my little rose, or pull them up?” 

“ I don’t know, granny. It’s Jonas ; he 
teases me, and I get cross! ” 

Tears were starting to Dimple’s eyes. 
“ Granny ” went on in her soft, clear 
voice : 

“ My little rose told me this morning 
she was really trying to be good to-day. 
And when I was in the greenhouse this 
morning, I heard her stamping at Jonas 
and telling him to be 1 quick directly,’ 
without any ‘ please,’ when she wanted 
a flower pot. If she isn’t nice to Jonas, 
she can’t expect Jonas to be nice to her. 
And the naughty names she calls him are 
very sad to hear.” 

Then impulsive little Dimple, with 
heaving chest, sprang upon “ granny’s ” 


144 


Roses. 


lap, and, nearly stifling her with a tear- 
stained, fervent embrace, sobbed out : 
“ I’m truly sorry — ever so sorry, and I 
will be good. I will try and pull up my 
weeds. Shall I go and tell Taylor, and 
Bertha and Jonas, I’m sorry.” 

“ Yes, darling, and any one else?” 

Dimple understood, and nodded her 
small head. 

“ I will tell God first.” 

She trotted up-stairs, and slipped into a 
little dressing-room adjoining Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert’s bedroom. Kneeling down, with 
fast-shut eyes, she whispered : “Please 
God I’ve been a naughty girl again, and 
I’ve come to say I’m sorry. And will 
you pull up all my weeds, acause it’s too 
hard work for me and granny. For 
Jesus Christ’s sake, Amen.” 

She got up and continued her rounds, 
with a serene face, making peace with 
all ; and returning to her godmother 
shortly after, was quite consoled by the 
promise that Archie should come to tea 


“ She’s Stoled Me!” 145 

with her every afternoon after his weed- 
ing was done. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was finding her little 
charge rather a handful at times ; and if 
it had not been for a very loving little 
heart, and great contrition for her faults, 
her quick passionate temper and strong 
will would have proved formidable foes to 
combat. As long as she went her own 
way with no contradiction, Dimple was 
sweetness itself ; and with her godmother 
she was always most docile and obedient, 
but the servants teased and coaxed her 
by turns, and Taylor was not wise in 
managing her. There were constant 
battles, and Mrs. Fitzherbert had to exert 
all her influence to preserve the peace 
between them. 

“ She be but a morsel o’ humanity,” 
said the irate Jonas when alluding to the 
child one evening in the kitchen ; “ and 
yet she fancies she’ll ride over us adults 
roughshod ! She have got a temper big 

enough for six men ; and if it ain’t put 
io 


146 


Eoses. 


under to once, she’ll get the bit between 
her teeth, and go to destruction.” 

But Dimple was learning lessons of 
self-control slowly and surely, and, in 
spite of the trouble she gave, was fast be- 
coming the joy and pride of her god- 
mother’s heart. 

Archie kept steadily and bravely to his 
work. The money box was given to Mrs. 
Fitzherbert, and every day the boy dropped 
in his well-earned pence. Dimple looked 
on with supreme satisfaction. 

“ You’re quite, quite sure you wouldn’t 
like me to put in a penny ? ” she would say 
sometimes, and Archie always promptly 
replied, “ No, not one penny. I must do 
it all myself.” 

The old gentleman, Mr. Brewster by 
name, found plenty of work for the boy, 
and now and then would address a re- 
mark to him ; but generally Archie, keep- 
ing to his compact, worked on in silence. 

One day not long after this, Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert was taken ill with a severe attack 


“ She’s Stoled Me ! 


147 


of influenza. Poor little Dimple wan- 
dered about the house feeling very for- 
lorn ; she was not allowed to go near the 
sick-room, and had to content herself with 
messages and bunches of flowers. Taylor 
was too busy to attend to her, and Bertha 
resented the charge of her. 

In utter desolation one afternoon Dim- 
ple crept into the drawing-room, and 
sobbed out her griefs to a small kitten on 
the window seat. She was found in this 
position by Lady Dorothy, who had called 
to inquire after her old friend. 

“You poor little creature ; you shan’t 
stay a day longer here. I will take you 
home with me. No one is looking after 
you, and I’m dying to have you.” 

Before Dimple realized what was being 
done, impulsive Lady Dorothy had run 
up-stairs, received permission from the 
invalid, had a bag packed by the delighted 
Bertha, and was driving away with the 
astonished and affrighted child in her 
brougham. 


148 


Roses. 


“ Well, big eyes, don’t look so scared ! 
You wait and see what lovely times you 
are going to have. Do you think I am 
going to eat you ? ” 

Not a word did Dimple say. When 
her little heart was in a tumult, she gen- 
erally took refuge in silence. She was 
stolen at last, carried away forever from 
darling granny, and she would never, 
never see her again ! 

This was the sum and substance of her 
thoughts. No wonder her eyes were big 
with consternation and horror. Lady 
Dorothy did not reassure her. 

“ I have always coveted you,” she said. 
“ I told Mrs. Fitzherbert I should steal 
you away from her one day, and now 
everything has favored me.” 

Dimple said nothing ; but suddenly in 
a bend of the road she saw Archie plodding 
steadily along on his way to his afternoon 
task. In an instant, before Lady Dorothy 
knew her intention, Dimple’s curly head 
was thrust out of the open window and a 


“ She’s Stoled Me ! ” 149 

piercing shriek brought Archie to a sud- 
den standstill. 

“ Archie ! Archie ! save me ! She’s 
stoled me ! Fetch me back ! ” 

“Yon little stupid ! ” exclaimed Lady 
Dorothy, astonished and amused by this 
display of feeling ; “ I am only in fun. 
Your ‘ granny ’ wants you to stay with 
me till she is better. I expect you \vill 
like me so much that you will never want 
to leave me. Here, come and sit on my 
lap, and let me tell you about the beauti- 
ful things I am going to show you. Are 
you fond of animals ? Have you ever 
seen any peacocks ? We have four, and 
two of them have such beautiful tails.” 

Lady Dorothy talked on, and after that 
one outburst Dimple relapsed into stolid 
silence. She was perfectly certain in her 
own mind that she had been stolen, and 
nothing that Lady Dorothy could do or 
say would convince her to the contrary. 

When the carriage stopped at last, she 
was taken into the big house, and petted 


150 


Roses. 


and caressed by Lady Dorothy, till the 
little tongue was unloosed, and she was 
led on to talk of her father. Dimple was 
always eloquent on that subject. 

“ I love daddy better than all the wo rid,” 
she exclaimed, “ and daddy loves me, and 
we’re going to have a little house to- 
gether till we get quite old, and our teeths 
drop out, and daddy shall lie on a sofa, 
and I will bring him beef tea, and we 
shall be very, very rich, and have roses 
everywhere, and always plenty to eat.” 

“ But what will your granny do when 
you leave her? ” 

“ Granny shall come and live with us, 
and so shall Archie, and he’ll wear a kilt.” 

“ Tell me about Archie. Who is he ? ” 

“Will you promise true and faithful to 
keep a secret if I tell you? ” 

“ 1 True and faithful,’ I will.” 

Then in a confidential whisper Archie’s 
story was told, and Lady Dorothy listened 
with moist eyes to Archie’s longing to be 
“ one of the family.” 


“ She’s Stoled Me!” 151 

“ How much money has he got?” she 
asked. 

“ Oh, lots of shillings, but not any 
pounds yet ; and I expect a kilt costs a 
lot of money, doesn’t it ? You see it must 
be the McBride tartan, and Archie says it 
ought to come all the way from Edin- 
burgh ; but I think Lunnon would sell 
it ; don’t you think so ? ” 

“ I expect it would. I wonder if I could 
help Archie to get it.” 

“ You mustn’t give him any pennies, 
acause he won’t let me give him any ; 
but if you had some weeding for him to 
do, he would be very glad. You see, he’s 
nearly done the old gentleman’s. Archie 
works dreadfully hard, and when it’s fin- 
ished, he won’t be able to get any more 
money.” 

“ Well, I must talk to my husband 
about it. Now come along, darling, and 
we will put you into a clean white frock, 
and you shall have dinner with Herbert 
and me for once. We are quite alone, 


152 Roses. 

and it won’t hurt you to sit up a little 
later to-night.” 

Dimple trotted off, apparently perfectly 
reconciled to her surroundings ; but Lady 
Dorothy would have been surprised if she 
could have known her thoughts. 

“ I’ve told Archie, and he promised 
faithful to come after me and fetch me 
back. He’ll be here very soon.” 

Lady Dorothy’s maid did not approve 
of “ her ladyship’s new freak,” as she 
termed it, when talking over matters to 
Jenkins the butler; “and I’m very sure 
of this,” she wound up with, “ if I’ve to 
turn nursemaid to a h’alien child, I’ll re- 
sign my situation within a week.” 

Dinner was a very solemn affair at 
Trixham Hall, in spite of Lady Dorothy’s 
lively talk and laughter ; and Dimple, 
seated on a cushion to make her higher, 
looked strangely diminutive and out of 
place in her heavy oak chair. She was 
very silent ; there was a startled look in 
her large gray eyes, and she eyed the 


“ She’s Stoled Me! 


153 


door opposite with an anxiety that could 
not be hid. Mr. Hill, Lady Dorothy’s 
husband, was a pleasant-faced, placid-look- 
ing man, and he tried to reassure the 
frightened child. 

“ It’s rough lines to bring you down to 
dinner when you ought to be in bed, little 
one, isn’t it ? You look as if you thought 
we were going to eat you. What’s the 
matter ? Don’t you like your food ? ” 

Dimple cast a glance at the two foot- 
men and butler moving backwards and 
forwards, and her words came out in 
a frightened gasp : “ Are those men 
keepers ? ” 

Lady Dorothy laughed outright, and 
signed to the men to leave the room, as 
dessert was just being put upon the table. 

“ What do you know about keepers ? ” 
she asked. 

Dimple replied at once with very round 
eyes : 

“ The keepers in the parks in London 
always have coats with brass buttons ; 


154 


Roses. 


they take care of tlie flowers, you see. 
It’s only in the country that people pick 
flowers ; they never do in L/unnon.” 

“You have a vast amount of worldly 
knowledge,” said Mr. Hill with a laugh. 
“ Yes, we have keepers too, it’s a good 
name for them. They have the care of 
something more valuable than flowers.” 

“ Flowers are the best things in all the 
world,” said Dimple in her .breathless 
way ; “ and roses are the bestest of all.” 

There was a slight stir in the hall — 
voices and steps, and a shrill, boyish 
treble, that made Dimple scramble down 
from her chair, and make a frantic rush 
to the door, which was being opened by 
the butler with a perplexed and puzzled 
face. The voice rang out with great 
decision : 

“ I’ve brought a policeman, for she has 
been stolen, and Lady Dorothy is to give 
her up at once.” 


CHAPTER X 


“ One of Granny’s 
Very Best Stories ” 


T ADY DOROTHY and her husband 
^ came out into the hall to find a little 
group of servants round a stalwart, sheep- 
ish-faced young policeman, and a very 
small boy in a shabby velveteen suit, with 
an earnest determination not to be frus- 
trated in his attempt at effecting a rescue. 

Dimple had rushed at him and em- 
braced him with warmth. 

“ I knew you would come ! I knew you 
would remember what you promised ! ” 
Archie held up his head proudly. His 
success at obtaining an entrance in a 
strange house, supported by the presence 

of such an important official, seemed to 

i55 


156 


Roses. 


have so exalted him that his habitual 
shyness had entirely disappeared. And 
when Lady Dorothy, in her soft silk 
gown and sparkling jewels, came grace- 
fully forward, followed by her six-foot 
husband, whose broad shoulders and 
Herculean frame made even the young 
policeman look stunted in growth, Archie 
addressed them in severe accents with a 
little wave of his hand to the servants 
round him. 

“ You have stolen Dimple away from 
her proper house, and I’ve come to fetch 
her back. IVe brought a policeman, and 
you’ll have to go to prison if you don’t 
give her up. We’re going to take her 
home now, this very minute, if you 
please.” 

He paused. Mr. Hill looked first at 
his wife, and then at the speaker, and 
then burst into an irrepressible fit of 
laughter, in which Lady Dorothy joined 
him. 

The servants, at a sign from their mis- 


“One of Granny’s Stories.” 157 

tress, withdrew, and the young policeman, 
looking exceedingly foolish, was trying to 
imitate their example, when Archie in des- 
peration gripped hold of his belt, and with 
scarlet cheeks exclaimed : 

“Will you tell Lady Dorothy that she’s 
to give Dimple up ? Tell her you’ll take 
her to the police station if she doesn’t ! ” 
Then Lady Dorothy, pitying the young 
man’s embarrassment, turned to him 
gently. 

“ I do not know what you expected to 
do. You may be certain that Mr. Hill, 
being a justice of the peace, would not 
allow any irregularity of the law in his 
own household. Did the little boy fetch 
you from your beat ? ” 

“ Please, my lad^, I didn’t rightly get 
hold of the story. He come rushing up 
to me, my lady, and dragged me off, 
say in’ there was a theft committed, and I 
were to come at once, — which I did when 
my beat wa^ over ; and he were so over 
excited like, that I’m sure, lady my, 


158 


Roses. 


’twasn’t till we were here I rightly under- 
stood he were charging your ladyship ; 
and I beg pardon humbly, my lady, and 
I hope his worship will overlook it ; but 
his only quite lately I’ve joined the Force, 
and I thought, my lady, I were always to 
go where there was theft — — ” 

Mr. Hill cut him short. 

“ There, my good fellow, that’s enough. 
Here’s something for your trouble. Your 
energy has overstepped your caution. 
Good night. Leave the young gentle- 
man with us.” 

Dimple had disappeared during this 
conversation. She now trotted down- 
stairs, her hat on her head, and her jacket 
half on, half off. When she saw Archie’s 
blank, disconcerted face, and the hasty 
retreat of the policeman, she uttered a 
piercing cry. 

“ Archie ! Don’t let him go ! Take 
me back, take me back to granny ! ” 

She was making a wild dash out of the 
door, when Mr. Hill lifted her up and 


“ One of Granny’s Stories.” 159 

carried her, struggling and screaming, into 
the library close by. 

Lady Dorothy drew Archie in after 
them, and in quiet, low tones tried to. ex- 
plain matters to him, whilst Dimple lay in 
the corner of a couch, sobbing her heart out. 

“ Is she not stolen at all ? ” questioned 
Archie perplexedly. “ Did her granny 
ask you to take her for a little visit? 
Will you take her back again directly she 
is better ? ” 

And then Dimple stopped her sobs and 
sat up to listen, too, to Lady Dorothy’s 
explanation. She was very tired and 
worn out, poor mite, by her experiences 
and emotions that afternoon. It was long 
past her bedtime ; and when Lady Doro- 
thy took her on her lap to reason with 
her, her little head dropped heavily, and 
a moment after she was fast asleep. 

Then Lady Dorothy carried her up to 
bed, and her husband was left with Archie, 
who began to feel more and more uncom- 
fortable at the failure of his rescue. 


160 


Roses. 


“ You’re a true knight errant, my boy. 
Don’t be ashamed of it. I wish all the 
distressed damsels in the world had such 
a prompt deliverer as you have proved 
yourself to be. And now, if you are as- 
sured of our honesty, don’t you think you 
ought to be making for home ? What 
will your people think ? Do they know 
where you are ? ” 

“ My uncle is in London,” said Archie, 
in reply. “ Hector will be angry, but I 
didn’t think of that. I didn’t know you 
lived such a long way off ; it took us a 
long time getting here.” 

“You shall be driven back in the 
brougham, and you must come over and 
spend a day with your little friend whilst 
she is with us.” 

Mr. Hill rang the bell, and gave an 
order for the carriage to be brought round. 
Then he sat and smoked, talking cheerily 
to poor Archie, who, now the excitement 
was over, was fast relapsing into his usual 


reserve. 


“ One of Granny’s Stories.” 161 

Lady Dorothy came down in time to 
wish him good-by. 

“ Dimple is fast asleep, my boy, so you 
must believe she is in good hands, and 
directly Mrs. Fitzherbert wants her back 
you shall come and fetch her away. I 
promise you that pleasure. Are you the 
little weeder ? Would you like to come 
and do some weeding here whilst your 
little playfellow is with us ? Can yon 
come to-morrow ? ” 

But Archie shook his head. 

“ My old gentleman told me to come 
to him very special to-morrow afternoon. 
I’ve done his weeding, but he wants some- 
thing else done.” 

Lady Dorothy forbore to press him, 
and Archie got into the comfortable car- 
riage feeling ashamed and crestfallen, and 
wondering anxiously what Hector would 
say to him on his return. 

It required all Lady Dorothy’s skill and 
energy to keep Dimple happy and con- 
tent in her new surroundings for the next 


162 


Roses. 


few days. But, childlike, she could not 
be long impervious to the kindness shown 
her. And the peacocks and flowers were 
a never-ending joy. She trotted about in 
the gardens, talking incessantly of her 
own little garden and “ granny’s beauti- 
ful roses.” 

The third day was a wet one. Dimple 
employed herself all the morning with 
scraps of silk and old artificial flowers 
making a “ bonnet for granny.” She 
pricked her fingers, and had many bursts 
of impatience over her task ; but she came 
into Lady Dorothy’s boudoir just before 
lunch with a radiant face, holding out a 
most wonderful medley of colored scraps 
in her hand. 

“ Isn’t it very nice ? Do you think she 
will like it ? P’raps she’ll wear it in the 
garden one day. It has a beautiful pink 
rose in it, but it doesn’t smell, and it hasn’t 
any prickles.” 

The bonnet was duly admired, and the 
restless little being sat supremely satis- 



“ The peacocks and flowers were a never-ending joy." 


[Page 162 , 































































• S m ' Ob j'l ?-■ 

















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- 
































“One of Granny’s Stories.” 163 

fied with herself through lunch. After- 
wards she wandered over the house, touch- 
ing everything she came across, and talk- 
ing away to herself in a rapid undertone : 

“ Yes, there are a lot of beautiful things, 
but they isn’t granny, and next to daddy 
I wants her. I think I shall go away in 
the carriage like Archie. — How do you 
do, granny, dear ? I’ve corned back, you 
see, and I shan’t never leave you again. 
The lady was very kind, but she said she 
didn’t steal me, and she did, and I aren’t 
going back to her any more ! ” 

Lady Dorothy stopped these murmured 
musings by catching her up in her arms. 

“ Come along, you little oddity. I’m 
in a big arm-chair by the drawing-room 
fire, and I want to be amused. There is 
room enough for both of us, and we will 
tell each other stories. I hate a wet day 
as much as you do. I’m getting quite 
moped.” 

Dimple was quite ready for a story ; 
and after she had heard the wonderful 


164 


Roses. 


tale of the sleeping beauty in the wood, 
she sat thoughtfully looking into the 
fire. 

“Well,” said Lady Dorothy, “ tell me 
what is going on inside that little curly 
head. I wish there was a window that I 
could look through.” 

Dimple laughed merrily ; then she said 
slowly v 

“ Don’t you think the flowers ought to 
talk ? P’raps if I was to kiss and kiss 
the roses, and go on kissing them, they 
might wake up and speak to me. Shall I 
try?” 

“ Oh, you funny child, you have shown 
me through the window. Now I guess 
that half your little head is full of 
thoughts of daddy, a quarter full of 
granny, and a quarter full of roses — not 
a tiny corner for poor me anywhere, is 
there ? Isn’t that a good guess ? ” 

“ There’s Archie,” said Dimple thought- 
fully. “ I like him next to the roses I , 
think.” 


“One of Granny’s Stories.” 165 

“ There’s less chance for me than I 
thought! Now it’s your turn to tell me 
a story. I think it must be about roses, 
and then you will be happy.” 

“ I’ll tell you one of granny’s very best 
stories she tells me on the garden seat, 
shall I ? ” 

“Yes, I shall love it.” 

“ I ask granny to tell it very often, so 
I know it quite well.” 

Dimple clasped her hands, and leaning 
her little head against Lady Dorothy’s 
shoulder, gazed dreamily into the fire, 
and began in a soft low voice, imitating 
unconsciously her godmother’s intona- 
tion : 

“ Once, in a very ugly old ditch, lived a 
poor little wild rose ; she had only sting- 
ing-nettles, and frogs, and blackberry 
bushes to play with, and she was always 
getting in a tangle with the brambles. 
She tried to grow straight, but she 
couldn’t; she just went anyhow, and the 
hedge was a horrid untidy one, and kept 


166 


Roses, 


all the sun away from the little wild rose. 
One day a big bumble bee came to see 
her. She was very glad to see him, but 
he wouldn’t stay very long ; and when 
she asked him to talk to her, he said 
crossly, 4 1 don’t like this old ditch, it’s 
so dark and muddy. I can’t get any 
honey. I’m going over the hedge into 
a beautiful garden, where everything is 
lovely.’ And he flew away, and the little 
wild rose began to cry. But by-and-by 
she thought she would try and climb over 
the hedge and see what was on the other 
side ; so after a long time she did, and 
then she saw a wall, and she got over that, 
and then what do you think she saw? 
Such a beautiful garden, the grass was 
like velvet, the paths were like yellow 
sand, there was a fountain playing, and 
beds of all kinds of lovely flowers, and 
such smells. She sniffed, and sniffed, 
and it made her quite hungry, and it was 
all sunny and bright ; and, best of all, all 
the way round the grass were beautiful 


“One of Granny’s Stories.” 167 

roses. There were crimson ones, and 
pink ones, and yellow ones, and white 
ones, and they were smelling very won- 
derful. Then she thought she would try 
and creep over by herself and get down 
into the garden ; and she managed to do 
it at last, but a cross gardener came along 
and seized hold of her. 

“ 1 Oh, please ! ’ she cried out. i I will 
be very good if you will let me stay. It 
is so nice here, I don’t want to go back 
to the ditch again.’ 

“ But the gardener was crosser. ‘ You’re 
only a wild rose — just a weed,’ he said, 
‘ and we aren’t going to have wild things 
in the master’s garden ; you’ll be trailing 
all over the place and giving me a lot of 
work.’ 

“ And then the gardener threw her 
over the wall, and she dropped over the 
hedge into the old ditch again, and her 
heart was broken ! ” 

Lady Dorothy laughed at Dimple’s 
tragic tone. 


168 


Roses. 


“ You’re a capital little story teller,” slie 
said ; “ 1 am quite interested — go on ! ” 

“ And so,” continued Dimple, shaking 
her head solemnly from side to side, “ the 
poor little wild rose was miserabler than 
ever, and she left off playing with the 
brambles, and she wouldn’t speak to the 
stinging-nettle ; and then they quarrelled 
with her, and told her she was stuck up 
and proud, and she didn’t care ; but she 
was always trying to get over the hedge 
again. And at last she did, and she got 
back into the garden again ; she couldn’t 
really keep away, and she hoped the gar- 
dener .wouldn’t see her. But one morn- 
ing he came along, and the master came 
with him, and the gardener frowned when 
he saw her; and he was just going to 
throw her over the wall again, when the 
master put out his hand and stopped him. 
And then he took the wild rose very 
gently in his hand and looked at it. 

“ 4 It is always coming over here,’ the 
gardener said, crossly. 


“ One of Granny’s Stories.” 169 

“ ( Perhaps it wants to come,’ the mas- 
ter said ; and he spoke so kindly that the 
little wild rose burst out crying. 

“ ‘ Oh, do let me stay here,’ she sobbed, 
and then the master smiled. 

u 1 1 know how to let you stay,’ he said : 
‘ I will make you into a garden rose, and 
you shall become like those beautiful ones 
that I have. But nothing wild grows in 
my garden, only the flowers that like to 
be trained and taken care of by me. And 
my flowers don’t grow just as they like. 
When they are in my garden, they grow 
as / like. Would you like to come : ’ 

“ Then the little wild rose laughed and 
clapped her hands, and she said, 1 Yes,’ 
she would love to come, and the master 
one day went outside into the ditch and 
pulled her right up by her roots, and took 
her into the house ; she was taken right 
away from the ditch, and at first she 
thought she was dead, but she wasn’t. 
Then one day the master cut a tiny, 
weeny bud off his best rose tree^and he 


170 


Roses. 


cut a little hole in the wild rose and 
slipped the bud into it and tied it round 
with worsted, and then he said to her : 

“ 1 Now I’ve made you into one of my 
garden roses, and you won’t be a wild 
rose any more, because your heart has 
been changed. You must wait a little 
longer and be patient, and then you will 
be put in my rose bed.’ So the little wild 
rose was patient and did all she was told, 
and tried to hold herself straight when 
she was put into a pot, and didn’t mind 
being tied up to a stick and watered ; and 
then one day at last she found herself in 
a bed on the beautiful lawn, and every 
day her buds grew bigger and opened 
into lovely red roses that smelt right 
across the garden, and she was happy 
ever after. The bees and the butterflies 
came to her, and the birds loved her, and 
the master loved her best of all, and used 
to come and pick the roses off her him- 
self. There ! isn’t that a pretty story ? ” 

“ A lovely one,” said Lady Dorothy, 


“ One of Granny’s Stories.” 171 

whose eyes were glistening with tears. 
“ I wish I had had a granny when I was 
a little girl to tell me stories like that.” 

“ Granny tells me it very often, and 
then she explanises it to me ! ” 

“ 1 Explanise’ it to me, dear.” 

a The little wild rose is me, and any 
other little children who grow up any- 
how ; and Jesus takes me into His garden, 
and gives me a new heart, and makes me 
one of His roses. That’s what granny 
says ; and I’m not in the ditch any more, 
I’m right in the garden ; and when I’m 
very good, I grow roses, and Jesus comes 
to pick them.” 

Lady Dorothy was silent for a moment ; 
then she gave a little sigh. Dimple lay 
back in her lap and thought. Presently 
she said, “ I expect you’re a garden boy, 
or a kind of under-gardener, aren’t you? 
Granny is my proper gardener ; she looks 
after me ; but now she doesn’t, I s’pose 
you do it instead.” 

“I wish I could say I was in that gar- 


172 


Roses. 


den,” muttered Lady Dorothy. “ No, no, 
Dimple, I’m not one of the Master’s gar- 
deners ; I think I am a big bramble, and 
I’ve just climbed to the top of the wall 
this afternoon, and am wishing hard to 
be in the garden out of the ditch ! ” 

Dimple laughed. Her grave mood was 
at an end, and she jumped down and 
danced out of the room after one of the 
dogs. Lady Dorothy did not move. She 
was still looking over the wall into the 
garden. 


CHAPTER XI 


“ Another Pair of 
Eyes for Me ” 

“ /^AH, granny, granny dear, you’ll 
never send me away again, will 
you ? Promise me faithful, true, you 
won’t ! ” 

Two little arms were nearly choking 
Mrs.- Fitzherbert in their tight embrace ; 
the soft childish lips were covering her 
face with moist kisses. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert was down-stairs in her 
pretty morning-room. She leant back in 
an easy chair, looking fragile and white, 
and her sweet blue eyes did not seem 
quite so bright as they used to be. 

She clasped her little godchild affec- 
tionately to her. 

“ Granny is very glad to get her little 

T 73 


174 


Roses. 


rose back again ; she has missed her very 
much, and she is so glad to hear from 
Lady Dorothy that Dimple has been a 
good child.” 

“ Yes, I’ve been pufhckly good, except 
when I tied my best pinafore round the 
puppy, and when I pulled the peacock’s 
tail, and when I said I wouldn’t go to 
bed when Lady Dorothy said I was to ; 
but I was sorry after, and she won’t never 
take me away from you again, will she ? ” 

“ I shall want you to wait upon your 
poor old granny; she feels very weak 
yet, so you must fetch and carry for her.” 

Dimple’s eyes sparkled. 

“ Like I waited on daddy when he was 
ill? I like ill people, granny. I’m so 
glad you’re going to be ill a little longer.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert did not echo the wish; 
but slowly her strength returned, and it 
was a proud day for Dimple when she led 
her godmother round the garden to see 
her favorite roses.” 

It was late autumn now, the days were 


“Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 175 

growing short, and the garden becoming 
bare and desolate. Still the autumn 
roses lingered as if loth to say good-by 
to the gleams of golden sunshine that 
still brightened their lives. Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert sighed sometimes as she watched 
her favorites one by one wither and fall. 
She complained a good deal of the want 
of sunshine and light, and would amuse 
her little godchild sometimes by her want 
of observation. 

“ Dimple, darling,” she said one morn- 
ing as she sat in her morning-room, “ do 
you see my knitting anywhere? I am 
sure I put it on this table by me, and it 
is not here.” 

“Yes, granny, it is, straight in front of 
you ; look ! ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert stretched out her 
hand a little uncertainly, and found the 
knitting. For a moment she sat silent 
with her hands folded in her lap ; her 
lips quivered, and then she said in a voice 
that trembled in spite of herself : 


176 


Roses. 


“ Dimple, fetch me the newspaper.” 

The child obeyed instantly, and her 
godmother wiped her spectacles, replaced 
them on her nose, and began to read. 

Dimple went back to her occupation of 
sorting some flower seeds, when she heard 
a little rustle, and looking up, saw the 
newspaper fluttering out of Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert’s hand. The old lady gazed at her 
little godchild with a wistful smile. 

“ Is it very dark this morning, dar- 
ling?” 

“ No, granny. See ! The sun is com- 
ing out.” 

Springing up from the floor, Dimple 
picked the paper up, and stood looking 
at Mrs. Fitzherbert with a little perplex- 
ity. 

“Granny, aren’t you happy? You 
look as if you are almost crying. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert made a little brisk 
movement in her chair. 

“ I want you to go on an errand for me, 
Dimple. I can trust you I know. Run 


“Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 177 


to the Vicarage, and ask Mrs. Howard 
if she will come and see me this morn- 
ing.” 

Dimple trotted off delightedly, and re- 
turned very soon, bringing Mrs. Howard 
with her. 

“ Ihn sure your godmother is not well,” 
Mrs. Howard said in her brisk way. 
“ This dreadful influenza always seems to 
leave such weakness ; she is not her 
bright self at all since her illness. I was 
talking to Doctor Annan about her only 
the other day. He says she has made a 
good recovery, but I — I don’t know.” 

Dimple was sent out of the room dur- 
ing her visit, and the child dimly began 
to understand that something was wrong 
when the doctor was sent for ; and a few 
days after, Mrs. Fitzherbert, accompanied 
by Mrs. Howard, went up to London and 
stayed there a week. The old servants 
talked together in mysterious whispers, 
but stopped directly they noticed Dimple’s 
presence. 


178 


Roses. 


“ She’s that sharp,” muttered Bertha 
one afternoon as she walked away from 
Taylor in the work-room, “ there’s no 
hiding nothing from a child that’s all 
eyes and ears ! ” 

“ What are yon trying to hide ? ” de- 
manded Dimple ; “ it’s only thief s, and 
jackdaws and magpies that hide things.” 

“ Imperent little creature,” said Bertha 
with a toss of her head ; “ you’re too free, 
Miss, to be calling me such names, and I 
would have you remember that I won’t 
stand it ! ” 

Bertha marched off, and Dimple said 
no more. She wandered about the house 
and garden longing for Mrs. Fitzherbert’s 
return. Not even Archie’s coming to 
spend two whole days with her comforted 
her little loving heart. 

“ Do you think granny is going away 
from me like daddy ? ” she asked Archie 
disconsolately when they were standing 
at the dining-room window watching a 
heavy shower of rain. 


“ Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 179 

“ Oh, no, she wouldn’t leave her own 
house. Who would take care of it ? ” 

“ I expect Jonas would try to. He’s 
dreadful cross now granny is away. He 
won’t let me into the greenhouse. He 
says everything is his, even the trowels 
and rakes. He made a bonfire yesterday, 
and he wouldn’t let me help ; he said 
even the bonfire was his, and I told him 
it wasn’t, acause there were lots of leaves 
and sticks, and those were God’s. Jonas 
never made the trees grow, he doesn’t 
know nothing about them. He only likes 
the vegtubbers ! ” 

“ Your granny is sure to come back,” 
said Archie confidently. 

Then they began talking about the 
important subject of the “ kilt,” and 
Archie was full of animation at once. 

“ I really do think I might get it by 
Christmas, don’t you think so ? Old Mr. 
Brewster said he thought so. He lets 
me dust and arrange his books in the big 
library now, and he gives me ninepence 


180 


Roses. 


an hour, just fancy ! He says books want 
more careful handling than weeds, and 
I’m awfully careful. He says I must 
have very clean hands, and I always show 
them to him when I begin; but do you 
know books are quite as dirty as weeds, 
at least his are? And I couldn’t help 
telling Hector last night ; do you think 
it matters? He brought me up some 
black currant tea because my throat hurt, 
and I was in bed ; and he was awfully 
pleased, and he says if I’ll give him the 
money, he’ll get me one as cheap as any- 
body, because he has a brother in the 
trade.” 

“ That’s lovely,” said Dimple, clapping 
her hands ; “ and you’ll come to church 
on Christmas Day with a fierce look on 
your face, and your hand on your dagger, 
like the pictures of the fam’ly ! ” 

“ I’ll try to,” said Archie modestly. 

They talked themselves into good 
spirits again for the time ; but Dimple 
soon reverted to her godmother, and it 


u Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 181 

was only bed-time that gave her busy 
brain a rest from fretting after her. It 
was a bright sunny afternoon when Mrs. 
Fitzherbert returned home. She said 
good-by to Mrs. Howard at the gate, and 
came in alone. Dimple flew into her 
arms, and led her breathlessly in ; Taylor 
hovered about her anxiously, but she was 
very silent ; and then, when she was rest- 
ing a little later in her easy chair, and 
having a cup of tea, she looked up and 
spoke : 

“ Taylor, come here ; don’t leave the 
room ; and Dimple, darling, listen too, 
for your granny will want all your care 
and love. I have seen two or three 
oculists, and they all tell me the same 
thing : my failing sight is incurable, and 
I shall soon be totally blind.” 

Taylor gave a slight gasp ; Dimple 
looked up puzzled, and stroked her god- 
mother’s hands caressingly. “ Are you 
going to be blind, granny dear? Poor 
granny ! what a pity ! but I will lead you 


182 


Roses. 


about. You shan’t have a dog and a 
string ! Oh, granny, dear, won’t you be 
able to see your flowers and the roses any 
more ? ” 

And here the reality of it came over 
the little maiden with such a rush that 
she burst out crying. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert stroked her curly head 
with trembling fingers. 

“You will be my little guide and com- 
fort, darling ; you must be another pair 
of eyes for me, and tell me all you see. 
What should I do without my little god- 
child?” 

“ If you please, ma’am,” said Taylor in 
a voice which was divided between injury 
and pity, “ you have me that will lay 
down my life if I could bring your eyes - 
back, and if it’s not to be, you’ll never 
want a thing to make your life a comfort 
while I am in the house ! ” 

And then Mrs. Fitzherbert took Tay- 
lor’s hand in hers, and tears began to 
gather in her blue eyes. 


“ Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 183 

“ I know you will be the same faithful 
friend that you have always been, Taylor. 
I thank God I shall still be surrounded 
with comfort and kindness. You will 
have to bear patiently with your old mis- 
tress, if she tries you with her helpless- 
ness. I have led such an active life that 
I cannot yet understand what it will be 
to be left with so little occupation, and to 
become so dependent on others ; but I 
can say, and I think you will join me, 
“ Thy will be done.” 

“ Granny,” said Dimple a short time 
afterwards, “ do you remember, when I 
first came to live with you, I told you I 
was unhappy acause I had no one to take 
care of like I did daddy ? And then you 
gave me my garden, and then I found 
Archie. But Archie doesn’t want me so 
much now ; he’s growing so big ; and 
when he gets his kilt, he will be quite 
grand and won’t want me any more. But 
now I’ve really, truly got you to take 
care of, and I will do it for ever and ever 


184 


Roses. 


till daddy comes for me, and then we 
must still live all together acause I shall 
be a bigger girl and quite able to take 
care of daddy and you too ! sha’n’t I ? Oh, 
granny, I will be very good, and will 
never be naughty again, if you’ll promise 
me faithful you’ll always let me take care 
of you, — and not Taylor ! ” 

Impetuous little Dimple was all excite- 
ment as she danced up and down before 
her godmother, and Mrs. Fitzherbert tried 
to be cheerful. 

“ Perhaps I shall be such a clever old 
lady that I shall be able to take care of 
myself, but I shall have plenty of errands 
to give you, Dimple. And I think my 
little godchild must make haste with her 
reading, so that she will be able to read 
the newspapers to her granny.” 

“ Oh, I will, I will,” cried Dimple ; 
“ I’ll learn as fast as ever I can, and I’ll 
never run away when Taylor tells me it’s 
time for my lesson.” 

Dimple had been for some little time 


“ Another Pair of Eyes for Me.” 185 

slowly making her way through a First 
Reader under Taylor’s tuition ; it was a 
trying time to both teacher and pupil, 
and brought many scoldings and tears. 

When Dimple went to bed that night, 
she called Taylor to her. 

“ Please, Taylor, I want my reading- 
book under my pillow. I’m going to 
learn to read as fast as I can now, and I’ll 
begin it when I wake in the morning. 
I’ll read all day except when I’m with 
granny ; and if I’m very quick and busy, 
do you think I’ll know how to read next 
week ? ” 

Down-stairs Mrs. Fitzherbert was sit- 
ting with a large print Bible on her knee. 
She was not reading, but her lips were 
moving, and her eyes were shining 
through her tears. 

“ The sun shall be no more thy light 
by day, neither for brightness shall the 
moon give light unto thee ; but the Lord 
shall be unto thee an everlasting light, 
and thy God thy glory.” 


CHAPTER XII 


“ When Roses have no Gardener, 
they Come to Nothing” ! 

AKE care now, you young scamp ; 



you will ruin my books if you let 
let them tumble ! ” 

It was Mr. Brewster who spoke. Archie 
was mounted on a step ladder with duster 
and brush, and he was in the act of tak- 
ing some rather heavy books out of their 
places when one slipped from his grasp 
and came to the ground. He came down 
from his perch at once with a humble 
apology for his carelessness, and Mr. 
Brewster, with an anxious face, came to 
see which of his treasures had fared so 
roughly. It was an old book, and had 
been well read. As Archie picked up a 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 187 

loose leaf that had fluttered out, he said 
with interest, “ It’s a rose book, Mr. 
Brewster.” 

“ Yes,” said the old man, taking it in 
his hand, and turning over its pages with 
loving, trembling fingers ; “it is a book 
on the cultivation of roses.” 

He moved back to his chair by the 
study table, where he usually sat, and, 
placing the book before him, sighed 
heavily as he perused it. 

Archie stood looking at him with a 
perplexed face. He was getting to feel 
quite at home with the old gentleman by 
this time, and presently he asked, “ Shall 
I put it back, sir ? ” 

“In a minute — in a minute,” was the 
impatient reply. Then, as the leaves of 
the book were being turned over, a piece 
of pale blue ribbon fluttered to the ground. 

Archie picked it up and laid it on the ' 
table. Mr. Brewster took it up, looked 
at it with a quivering face, then gave the 
book back abruptly to the little fellow. 


188 


Eoses. 


“ Put it away. It is over forty years 
since I had it in my hand.” 

He walked to the window, and stood 
looking out on his green lawn, which was 
lying in the sun before him. 

“ Did you ever plant roses ? ” asked 
Archie a little timidly. 

Mr. Brewster did not answer for a min- 
ute. He seemed strangely moved. Then 
he said huskily, “ Leave your books, and 
come into the garden with me, and I will 
show you where I planted roses.” 

Archie cheerfully obeyed ; the sunny 
garden was much more to his taste than 
the dusty study. 

Mr. Brewster took up his old straw hat 
from a chair on which it was lying, then 
fumbled in his writing-table drawer for 
his bunch of keys, and gravely led the 
way down one of Archie’s neatly-weeded 
paths, till he reached a small iron gate in 
the midst of a shrubbery. 

Archie knew the gate well. It was 
rusty with age, and was locked with a 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 189 

padlocked chain. He had often wondered 
where it led to, and had asked once if 
there were not paths the other side of it 
that needed weeding. Mr. Brewster had 
scowled upon him ferociously, and for- 
bade him ever to mention the gate to him 
again. 

He looked on surprised as the old man 
fitted a key in the padlock, and after a 
great deal of straining and turning opened 
it, and let himself and his small compan- 
ion through. 

They came out upon a perfect wilder- 
ness of rank, tall grass. Briers and 
brambles flourished, and it was difficult to 
keep their footing through the tangled 
undergrowth. 

A few rusty iron arches stood up in the 
midst of it all, and on one of these was 
still a creeping rose. Only green leaves 
were to be seen, and Mr. Brewster took 
a spray of it in his hand to examine it. 
Then he turned solemnly to Archie. 

“ This was a rose garden many years 


190 


Roses. 


ago,” he said. “ I spent all my time and 
money over it when I was a young fellow.” 

Archie looked round with great interest. 
“ I expect it was a lovely garden,” he 
said, shyly. 

“ Ay, it was that. Some of the choicest 
standards that England can produce were 
here, and I had over two hundred of 
them.” 

He paused as they came upon a rusty 
iron seat, now almost hidden under the 
long grass. The sun shone across the 
neglected spot, and seemed to rest lov- 
ingly on the bent head of the old 
man. 

Archie looked about him with pained 
and puzzled eyes. 

“ Why did you lock it up, sir ? ” he asked 
timidly. 

Mr. Brewster shook his head, and began 
pacing up and down the long grass in 
some agitation. 

“ That book has upset me,” he mur- 
mured more to himself than the boy. 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 191 

“How I loved it! How she laughed at 
me ! How often I was dragged away 
from it, and how I worked here ? I seem 
to smell the fragrance now, and it is all 
gone, gone, gone, and I am am old fool to 
come here again ! ” 

He took out his handkerchief, blew his 
nose violently, and shook his head despair- 
ingly again. Something in his lonely, 
dejected attitude made Archie creep up to 
him, and steal his little hand into his for 
very sympathy. He dared not ask who 
the “ she ” was, but wondered in his 
heart if she were a sister, mother, play- 
mate, or wife. Mr. Brewster clenched the 
soft little hand in his very tightly. 

“ My boy,” he said solemnly, after a 
short silence, “ make the most of the sun- 
shine and roses in your youth ; the time 
will come when your heart and life will 
be like this old rose garden, and all yon 
can do is to lock up the past and try to 
forget it.” 

Archie felt awed and depressed ; he tried 


192 


Roses. 


hard to imagine the deserted place in its 
former wealth and beauty ; but even with 
the sunbeams dancing across the swaying 
grass, and the bees and butterflies hover- 
ing over the creeping briers and brambles, 
it looked dreary and forlorn. Mr. Brew- 
ster was slowly wending his way back to 
the little iron gate, and he seemed to have 
become older and feebler than usual. 
When they reached it, Archie turned 
round and took a long look at it all 
again ; then he said reflectively, “ It’s just 
like Dimple says. When roses have no 
gardener, they come to nothing.” 

“ They have not had a gardener for 
over forty years,” said Mr. Brewster 
sadly. 

“ And I suppose,” the boy continued, 
“ that you would not let me try to cut the 
grass and make it tidy? ” 

“ No,” the old man said sternly ; “ I 
have unlocked it to-day, and unlocked a 
good deal besides ; and now I shall lock 
it up again for the rest of my life. I want 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 193 

no more roses in this world ; they only 
mock me ! ” 

They went back into the house in 
silence, but Mr. Brewster did not seem 
able to settle down to his reading again, 
and at last he said testily, “ I think you 
had better run away, and leave the rest 
of the books to another day. I can’t be 
disturbed so by your dusting ! ” 

Archie slipped down from his ladder 
with a blank face, but not a word would 
he say, and he was just creeping out of 
the door when Mr. Brewster called him 
back. 

“ Here is your eighteenpence ; don’t 
you want it ? ” 

Archie drew up his little figure proudly 
at once. “ I haven’t earned it.” 

“ Pshaw ! Take it and go ; do you hear 
me ? I would rather have your room than 
your company.” 

Mr. Brewster had relapsed into his old 
querulousness. 

Archie pocketed the coins with great 
*3 


194 


Roses. 


reluctance, and his little feet lagged as he 
slowly went down the garden. He paused 
at the little iron gate, and, leaning against 
it, looked wistfully through the dark ever- 
green shrubs. 

“ It looks like an old graveyard,” he 
murmured to himself ; “ and I suppose it 
is a kind of rose graveyard ! ” 

He was startled by hearing a voice at 
his elbow : 

“ It’s a graveyard of buried hope and 
love, and all that makes up a man’s life ! ” 

Turning round, he saw old Mrs. Burke, 
Mr. Brewster’s housekeeper. She had 
her apron full of cabbages, for she was 
taking them in to cook, and had followed 
him up to the gate. 

“ What has made the master come here 
to-day ? ” she asked, looking at Archie 
with her keen gray eyes. “ What have 
you been talking about ? And why did 
he bring you here ? I saw you from the 
kitchen window.” 

“ I think it was the book made him 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 195 

come,” said Archie simply ; “ a book 
about roses that tumbled down from the 
top shelf when I was dusting it.” 

“ And what made you tumble that one 
down above all others?” she demanded 
fiercely. “ Isn’t it bad enough to have 
an old sore without a child’s awkward 
fingers picking it open again ! ” 

“ I didn’t know,” faltered poor Archie. 

“ Of course you didn’t ; but you might 
a been careful of his books. They’re his 
life blood : every one has a history, and 
the one on roses most of all ! There ! 
Don’t get tears in your eyes about it. 
Has he turned you out ? ” 

Archie turned his back on her, and 
nodded. He was very angry with him- 
self for showing any emotion ; but for the 
first time in his life he had come in con- 
tact with hidden sorrow ; and his affec- 
tionate little heart ached for the desolate 
old man. 

Mrs. Burke was fond of Archie. More 
than once she had called him into her 


196 


Roses. 


cheery kitchen, and given him a hot cake 
or some other little dainty. Her life was 
a monotonous one, and she had watched 
him come and go with the greatest in- 
terest. It was she who suggested to her 
master how he could still be employed 
after the weeds were done. Her orderly 
soul had long been vexed with the dusty, 
untidy state of Mr. Brewster’s bookcases ; 
and she had been positively forbidden to 
lay a finger on any of them. It was with a 
quiet triumph that she viewed her sugges- 
tion being carried out ; and she * regarded 
Archie as a real benefactor to herself. 

“ Come into the kitchen for a bit,” she 
said cheerfully ; “ there’s no need for you 
to hurry away.” 

Archie willingly obeyed her. 

Mrs. Burke’s kitchen was a picture 
that afternoon. The floors and tables 
were scoured as white as a good strong 
arm and plenty of soap and water could 
make them. A canary lifted up his voice 
and sang in the sunny bow window, 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 197 

round which ran a broad ledge filled with 
bright fuchsias and geraniums. Rows of 
burnished copper pans and quaint old 
china adorned the walls. An eight-day 
clock ticked away in the corner, and in 
the front of a bright blazing fire on a 
scarlet rug lay Mrs. Burke’s favorite 
tabby, the personification of comfort and 
satisfaction. 

Archie slipped himself into a grand- 
father’s chair, and Mrs. Burke, a little 
breathless and very warm with her out- 
door exertions, sat down in another similar 
one, and fanned herself with her pocket 
handkerchief. 

Then she began to talk, and Archie 
listened eagerly, for he hoped to hear 
about the old rose garden. 

“ I was a youngish maid when I first 
come here. My Ned, he was a courtin’ me, 
but my aunt was housekeeper to young 
Master then ; and I came up to give her 
a helpin’ hand about the house. Master 
was a youngish man then, and quite 


198 


Roses. 


wrapped up in his books till he met Miss 
Nora Percy. She came to live with her 
uncle, the old doctor — he’s been dead 
these many years ; but Master was just 
then dabbling in medicine and surgery, 
and such like, because he had nothing 
else to do ; and he was always over at the 
doctor’s ; and then pretty Miss Nora came 
tripping over here with her aunt, and it 
was given out they were engaged. I can 
see her now in her white frock and blue 
ribbons, and roses at her throat or in her 
belt. She was wonderful fond of roses, 
and loved to be amongst the flowers and 
in the sunshine. She used to drag Master 
away from his books, with her merry 
laugh, and he just worshiped the ground 
she trod upon. And it was natural he 
took up gardening when she was so fond 
of . it, and one day he said to my aunt : 
‘ Mrs. Tudor,’ he says, ‘ I’m going to 
make a rose garden for her, and I shall 
set about it at once. I want it to be a 
surprise, and shall give it to her as a 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 199 

wedding gift/ My aunt was an old 
woman, and she had been his nurse, so 
he used to talk to her familiar like. Well, 
of course, he set to work, as he did most 
other things, throwing his whole heart 
and soul in it. He got a couple of men, 
and superintended every bit of it himself, 
and how he did it I don’t know, except 
that he bought this book, and studied it 
from morning to night. He had the rose 
trees planted in the autumn. 

“ Miss Nora had gone back to her own 
home, but they were to be married the 
following summer, and he used to be 
working in that bit of garden before 
breakfast, and till after dusk had set in. 
He had arches and seats, and even tried 
a fountain in the middle of the turf. He 
left his books altogether, and was never 
happy unless he was rolling the turf, or 
planting or weeding there. And then 
when it was in its full bloom, he goes off 
and gets married. 

“ My aunt took me round the rose gar- 


200 


Roses. 


den the evening before they were ex- 
pected back. And there ! Though I’m 
an old woman now, I never shall forget 
the look and smell of it ! The roses 
were in full bloom ; it was a perfect 
bower of beauty ; the birds were singin’ ; 
and says I to my aunt, ‘ Well, if Miss 
Nora won’t spend most of her days here, 
I shall be much mistaken.’ The next day 
passed, and they never come home. Late 
in the evening we had a telegram — they 
were in foreign parts on their honeymoon, 
Florence, I believe, the name of the place 
was — and it was to say Miss Nora had 
caught a chill, and couldn’t travel. We 
heard nothing more for a fortnight, and 
then my aunt had a letter, and I remem- 
ber her face went as white as a sheet. I 
never shall forget it. We were sittin’ 
down to breakfast, and I was eatin’ a 
piece of hot buttered toast — I never can 
eat a bit now without thinking of that 
mornin’ — and she looks up with a kind 
of gasp. 


“ When Roses have no Gardener.” 201 

“ ‘ Miss Nora is dead/ she says, ‘ and the 
Master is coming back alone next week.’ 
I couldn’t believe it, but true it was : she’d 
caught a kind of fever, and was gone, 
poor young thing, without ever settin’ 
eyes on the rose garden that had been 
planted for her.” 

“And did poor Mr. Brewster come 
home all alone ? ” asked Archie, who 
had followed the pathetic little story with 
great interest. 

“Yes, that he did, and he walked into 
the house like an old man. He went out 
into the rose garden that same evening, 
and stayed there till after dark. We got 
quite anxious, and aunt, she slipped out 
after a bit and watched for him. At last 
she saw him come out and lock the gate 
up, then he leant on it with both arms 
and looked over into the garden, and she 
fancied she heard a bit of a sob in his 
throat, and then he comes in ; and never, 
though that’s over forty years ago, has 
he been in since till to-day ! He went 


202 


Roses. 


back to his books ; but if there’s one 
thing he dislikes more than another it’s 
the sight and smell of a rose.” 

Archie sighed as the old woman paused, 
and then asked thoughtfully, “ I wonder 
why God made her die just then ? ” 

“ Ah, well,” said Mrs. Burke shaking 
her head, “ I suppose the Almighty wanted 
her. She was a very good young lady ; 
and isn’t there a verse that says some- 
what about it being better to have loved 
somebody, even if you’ve lost them, than 
never loved no one at all ? ” 

Archie could not say, but he slipped 
away soon after, and as he slowly made 
his way home he pondered deeply. 


CHAPTER XIII 


u Daddy’s own 
Book ” 

T^VIMPLE meanwhile was devoting her- 
self to her godmother with a per- 
tinacity that surprised the old servants. 
She adopted a little motherly air and tone 
that both amused and touched Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert, and would hang about her room 
suggesting little alterations that might 
make her more comfortable. 

“ I think, granny, dear, if you was to 
always have your chair close to the win- 
dow, you could smell your roses better, 
and you could hear the birds sing, couldn’t 
you ? And may I have my little chair in 
the window, and push away this table of 

books ? I can’t read quite well enough yet 

203 


204 


Roses. 


to read them to you, but I will very soon, 
and I can tell you all I see out of the 
window, like I did to daddy in Lunnon 
when he was tired and lay on the sofa. 
I used to tell him all the people coming 
along the street, and what they were 
dressed like, and where they were going ; 
and sometimes he would laugh. Will 
you let me try and make you laugh, 
granny? I think I almost could.” 

There were many visitors in and out, 
for Mrs. Fitzherbert was a great favorite 
in the neighborhood ; many kind gifts 
were sent, and much sympathy shown. 
And all wondered at the serene, sunshiny 
demeanor of the old lady. No one knew 
the inward conflict and the passionate 
prayers that went up hour by hour for 
the grace and strength so much needed — 
prayers that were heard and answered, as 
the outward life testified. 

“ It’s rather a good thing for you, 
granny, that winter is coming, acause 
you won’t want to be seeing your flowers 


205 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 

now,” said Dimple one cold, frosty morn- 
ing, coming into her godmother’s room. 
“ Look, I’ve brought you a lovely rose — 
a Glory one, isn’t it? There are two 
more, and then they will be the last till 
next summer.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert took the rose and fin- 
gered it lovingly. 

“ Now, Dimple, see what a good thing 
it is to have fragrance. I can’t see this 
• rose, but I smell it, and I shall know just 
where it is when you put it in water. 
What a lot of pleasure it gives me, 
doesn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes,” assented Dimple, “ that’s why 
you want me to smell sweet, don’t you ? 
Granny, you’ve got me left ; I’m your 
little rose tree all the winter through, so 
you’ll never be left without a rose, will 
you ? ” 

The child laughed merrily as she 
spoke, and Mrs. Fitzherbert stroked her 
little curly head with an answering smile. 

“ Yes, granny’s special rose will always 


206 


Eoses. 


be witli Her, she hopes, and will give 
pleasure to everybody by her fragrance.” 

“ I’m not sweet to Bertha and Jonas,” 
admitted Dimple truthfully. “ I think I 
show my prickles to them ; but they do 
worry me so, and Bertha is always saying 
children are in the way, and Jonas says 
I’m born to plague him. I told him I 
was glad he wasn’t my gardener ; and I 
told him he lived in the ditch, and was 
just like a stinging-nettle, that’s what 
he is ! ” 

Dimple was getting irate at the very 
remembrance of her last battle with Jonas, 
when Mrs. Howard arrived on the scene, 
and the subject was changed. 

A day or two after this Dimple had a 
great pleasure. A parcel arrived for her 
by post from her father, and this proved 
to be a book written by himself. It was 
a book that was already making a great 
stir in literary circles ; and Arthur Seaton, 
after years of weary grind and poverty, 
had woke at last to fame and popularity. 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 207 

After the title page came the dedica- 
tion : 


“ To the Littee Sunbeam 
that Lightened a Dark Time.” 

The book was far above and beyond Dim- 
ple’s comprehension, but it was “ Daddy’s 
own book,” and that was everything. 
She carried it about in a cardboard box, 
and spent hours gloating over its closely 
printed pages. The dedication brought 
the pink color with a rush to her cheeks 
whenever she looked at it ; and she 
showed it to the old servants with par- 
donable pride. 

“ That’s what daddy says about me. 
He always called me his little sunbeam, 
and he’s written and made up this book 
all himself, and it’s for me ; and when I 
get a big girl, granny says I will under- 
stand it. Hasn’t daddy made it nicely ? 
Look at the cover ; he must have drawed 
it, and then painted it, and it smells so 


208 


Roses. 


clean. And what a long time it must 
have taken him to print all these little 
letters ! ” 

“ You silly child ! your father only 
wrote it on paper ; the printers and book- 
binders made the book.” 

It was Bertha, of course, who ruthlessly 
tried to shatter the child’s innocent belief, 
but Dimple was not to be so convinced. 

“You don’t know nothing about it ; it’s 
daddy’s own book, and he made it all 
himself, and he’s the cleverest man in 
England. I shall go and ask granny if 
he isn’t.” 

Dimple dashed away, and ran into 
Lady Dorothy’s arms as she was coming 
out from Mrs. Fitzherbert’s morning- 
room. 

Twice every week, without fail, Lady 
Dorothy came to read to her old friend ; 
and the quiet couple of hours she spent 
in that sweet, calm atmosphere did much 
to soothe her own restless spirit. Of 
course Dimple stopped and showed her 


209 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 

treasure, and Lady Dorothy duly ad- 
mired and exclaimed before she took her 
leave : 

“ Your father is making his name, and 
he will soon be coming back with his 
pockets full of money. Then I suppose 
he will want to carry you off to London 
with him ; and what will poor granny 
do?” 

Dimple’s eyes grew round with fear. 

“ Daddy shan’t never go back to Lun- 
non. Lunnon makes everybody poor, and 
cold, and hungry, and ill. He shall come 
and live with granny and me.” 

Lady Dorothy smiled rather sadly. 

“ London is all right for the fortunate 
folks, Dimple. Your father’s dark times 
are over.” 

She went, and Dimple trotted away to 
her godmother. Every new book was a 
trial to Mrs. Fitzherbert, and this one she 
fingered tremblingly. She had been a 
keen reader all her life, and the depriva- 
tion of such an interest and occupation 


210 


Roses. 


tried her sorely. Dimple never knew, as 
she so constantly placed her father’s book 
in her godmother’s lap, the sorrow of heart 
she caused the old lady; but Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert never showed by word or sign 
how much she felt it. Her smile and 
tone were always bright to her little god- 
child, and the two would often have very 
hearty laughs together. 

As soon as she was permitted, Dimple 
trudged over to Archie to show him the 
precious book. Taylor accompanied her, 
and while she was enjoying a chat with 
Hector and Mrs. Blaikie the children sat 
on the rug by the dining-room fire, turn- 
ing over -the pages of their treasure, 
Dimple’s little tongue keeping up a cease- 
less chatter. 

“ I must show it to your uncle. He 
likes £ lever books, doesn’t he ? ” 

“ Yes, but he doesn’t like to be dis- 
turbed in the afternoon.” 

“ Oh, yes, he will like it, when he 
knows it’s daddy’s own book. I’ll go.” 


211 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 

She tapped at the study door, and then 
ushered herself in, staggering slightly 
with her load. Her arms were stiff and 
aching from the weight it had been to 
carry along the road, but nothing would 
induce her to let Taylor carry it for 
her. 

Mr. McBride looked up sharply. 

“ Oh, it is you, child, is it ? Run away, 
I cannot be disturbed.” 

“ But,” said Dimple, undaunted, “ you 
don’t know what I’ve brought you. It’s 
the most wonderful clever book, and it’s 
daddy’s. He made it all himself. I want 
you to look at it.” 

She lifted it with difficulty upon the 
high table, and Mr. McBride a little im- 
patiently took it in his hand. His ex- 
pression changed when he glanced at the 
title page. 

“ Did your father write this ? I have 
heard about it. I shall like to look at it 
when I have leisure. Thank you, little 
girl. I shall return it by the hand of my 


212 


Roses. 


nephew when I have read it. Now I 
must be left alone, please ; and close the 
door quietly when you go out.” 

He turned to his writing again. 

“ But — but ” faltered poor little 

Dimple ; and then seeing her father’s 
book put well out of her reach, and Mr. 
McBride bury himself in his papers again, 
she darted out of the room, and burst into 
a fit of passionate tears when she reached 
her little playfellow. 

“ He’s took it, and kept it, and says 
he’s going to read it ! ” 

Archie did not share her grief, but, on 
the contrary, look very pleased. 

“ It must be a very clever book indeed,” 
he said, “ if uncle wants to read it. He 
only reads very old, learned books — suGh 
difficult ones.” 

“ But I want daddy’s book,” sobbed 
Dimple ; “ I shan’t never sleep to-night 
without it. I take it to bed with me 
every night, and I can’t go home without 
it.” 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 213 

“ I expect your daddy would like my 
uncle to read it,” said Archie craftily. 

Dimple stopped her tears to consider 
this point, and finally became pacified by 
Archie solemnly promising to bring the 
book back as soon as ever his uncle had 
read the last page. 

She went home, half unhappy, half 
proud at the result of the visit ; but no 
peace did she allow herself or any one till 
the book was once more in her possession, 
and after that experience she was more 
chary in showing it to strangers. 

A month later, and she heard the good 
news of her father’s intended return to 
England. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert, with the help of 
Mrs. Howard, had a great deal of corres- 
pondence on this subject, and she did not 
tell Dimple, till everything was finally 
settled, how very nearly she had been 
taken from her. 

Arthur Seaton was anxious to settle in 
London and have his child with him. 


214 


Eoses. 


“ I am already bringing out another 
book,” he wrote ; “ and I have had so 
many good offers from different publishers 
that I do not think I shall ever be in such 
straits again. I cannot thank you enough 
for your goodness to my little one ; but 
she is all I have, and I want her with 
me.” 

Then Mrs. Howard wrote and pictured 
the loneliness and helplessness of his old 
friend, and told him Dimple was the joy 
of her life. 

“ If you could see her leading Mrs. 
Fitzherbert about, with such intense love 
and pride in the task, if you could know 
the real companionship they have together, 
and could see the brightening of face as 
Mrs. Fitzherbert hears the child’s light 
steps coming near her, and see the little 
maid with her arms clasped round her 
granny’s neck, whispering all kinds of 
childish secrets into her ears, I am sure 
you could not have the heart to separate 
them. Mrs. Fitzherbert begs me to say 


215 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 

that her house will be your home if you 
will only accept it. You would have 
time and leisure to write here, and would 
be near enough to London to run up and 
down as you would desire.” 

Arthur Seaton made objections, but 
they were all overruled, and at last he 
wrote to say he would take the earliest 
opportunity of coming down to see his 
child and settle the future. With that 
they were content. Mrs. Fitzherbert felt 
pretty certain of her own powers of per- 
suasion when it came to personal talk. 

“ Do you remember how nervous and 
anxious I was at having the child at 
first?” she said to Mrs. Howard when 
that good lady was leaving her one after- 
noon. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Howard ; “ though I 
am not over fond of Dimple, I must say 
she has turned out well. She seemed 
such a wild little untrained thing when 
she first came to you, but then who 
wouldn’t improve under your influence ? 


216 


Roses. 


She is unconsciously adopting the sweet, 
gracious little manners of her godmother; 
her very voice is an imitation of yours ; 
and if she grows up a feeble imitation of 
you, she will do well. Now don’t say I 
flatter. You know I never do. Good-by.” 

Dimple was not told that her father 
might arrive soon. Mrs. Fitzherbert 
dreaded the effect of such tidings on her 
excitable little nature. As it was, she 
talked of it often enough, though she still 
pictured it in the dim distance. 

One afternoon Dimple sat by Taylor’s 
side, eagerly spelling out her usual read- 
ing-lesson. She was making quick pro- 
gress now ; her desire to read to her god- 
mother had a stimulating effect. Sud- 
denly she paused and leant both elbows 
on her book. “ Taylor, why didn’t God 
make me two mouths ? ” 

“ Good gracious, child, your one is busy 
enough in all conscience. Whatever do 
you want another for ? ” 

“ I’ve been thinking,” said Dimple 


“ Daddy’s Own Book.” 217 

seriously, “ that I shall be very busy 
when daddy comes home acause two peo- 
ples will be wanting me, and I’ve made it 
all out in my head what I’m going to do. 
One of my hands is going to be for daddy, 
the other for granny ; one of my feet for 
daddy, one for granny ; one of my ears 
for daddy, one for granny ; one of my eyes 
for daddy, one for granny ; but then there’s 
my mouth — I do wish I had two mouths 
and tongues. You see, I shall want to 
kiss them both at the same time, and how 
can I do it ? 

“ I think you’re talking like a silly 
child. Go on with your reading.” 

Dimple gave a little sigh. 

“ You always call me silly ; granny 
never does. And why did God give me 
such lots of twos ? He must have known 
I would want to use them for two people. 
I want daddy to have half of me, and 
granny half of me, and it’s only my mouth 
and nose that I can’t make into two.” 

She went on with her reading, but in 


218 


Roses. 


bed that night Taylor heard her mur- 
muring to herself : 

“ I loves them just the same ; yes I do ; 
and which half of me shall belong to 
daddy ? Til — I’ll let granny choose first.” 

Taylor went down to the kitchen, and 
made the other servants laugh at Dim- 
ple’s quaint thoughts. 

“ Well,” said Jonas, shaking his pipe 
dust out against the kitchen grate, “ What 
I sez is this here : Missis be afflicted 
with blindness. Be this here Mr. Seaton 
going to take her place in the garden- 
ings ? for I can’t abide masters, and him 
and me’ll fall out. There’ll be no half 
and half wi’ Jonas ! Ha ! ha ! and as for 
the little maid, she’s with all her owda- 
cious sperrits uncommon smart. If her 
father be like her, he’ll be wantin’ to turn 
an old man out of his sitivation.” 

“ Don’t croak so ! ” said Bertha. “ Mis- 
tress is not going to give up the reins yet 
awhile. She’s as brisk as a bee, and will 
be out in the garden amongst her flowers 


“ Daddy’s Own Book. 


219 


next spring just as ever she used to be, 
you mark my words. I don’t object so to 
a gentleman being in the house ; he’ll 
make it more lively.” 

“ Trust Miss Dimple for keeping us 
lively,” said Taylor. “ I did think, when 
first she come, she would be a terrible 
handful, but I’ve never found her out of 
the way so, and she is a loving little thing 
for all that you say ! ” 

“ Ay, ay,” said Jonas with a sarcastic 
smile*; “she planted a geranium in my 
hat yesterday morning, she was that lov- 
ingly drawn to it ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


“ Really and Truly 
One of the Family ” 

T T was about this time that Archie 
opened his money box. He came one 
afternoon in an agitated state of mind to 
Dimple. 

“ Do you know what Hector has done ? 
He has written already to his brother and 
ordered me a kilt. He says his brother 
will wait for the money if I haven’t got 
enough, and I had better send him what 
I have ; and I’ve come to open my money 
box, and Mr. Brewster wants to know 
how short I shall be, and I am to tell him 
this afternoon. 

“ Hector says it will take some time in 
coming, and I must have it before Christ- 
mas.” 

220 


“ One of the Family.” 221 

“ Come and tell granny ; she will count 
it out for us.” 

It was a long business. Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert felt more helpless than the children 
as the big and little coins rattled out, and 
Archie gasped as he saw the little pile of 
money. “ It looks like twenty pounds,” 
he murmured, “ but I’ve been months 
working for it.” They counted away. 
Though Mrs. Fitzherbert could only feel, 
and once or twice had to appeal to the 
children, she rarely made a mistake, and 
at last the total was made out : three 
pounds six shillings and ninepence. 
Archie screamed with delight, and Dimple 
danced round the room in her excitement. 

“It is a great lot for a little boy to 
have earned,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert. “ I 
think you have been most persevering, 
and you must let me add a little as a 
gift.” 

“ Please no,” said Archie, coloring up. 
“ I want to say it is all my own money.” 

“ Well, you can’t prevent my giving 


222 


Roses. 


you a present to buy anything you like,” 
said Mrs. Fitzherbert, taking out her 
purse, and slipping a yellow coin into his 
hand. “ Now you can buy anything you 
like with that ; it is not given for the kilt ; 
it is given to you to reward your in- 
dustry.” 

Archie looked doubtful and uncomfor- 
table, but Mrs. Fitzherbert would not take 
the half-sovereign back, and he shyly 
thanked her for it at last. Then he asked 
if Dimple might come with him to see Mr. 
Brewster. “ He’s asked several times to 
see her again, but she never will 
come.” 

“ No,” said Dimple in a very important 
little voice ; “ I stay at home to take care 
of granny now ; I don’t make visits to 
anybody.” 

“ But, darling, I think you might go 
this afternoon with Archie ; the walk will 
do you good, and he will bring you back 
safely I know.” 

With a little reluctance Dimple went. 


“ One of the Family. 


223 


It was a bright, frosty day, and the two 
children ran along the country road in 
good spirits. When they walked up the 
neatly weeded gravel walk to Mr. Brew- 
ster’s door, Dimple said : 

“Will you stop weeding directly you’ve 
got enough money ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Archie gladly ; “ I’m sick 
of weeding. I don’t think I’ll ever pull 
up another one as long as I live.” 

“ But Mr. Brewster won’t like to see 
his paths get all untidy again.” 

“ I don’t expect he cares. He told me 
the other day that weeds were for some 
good purpose, and they were all God’s 
making.” 

“ I don’t think God makes weeds,” said 
Dimple gravely. He doesn’t make mine 
inside me ; Satan does ; and granny said 
we must go on pulling up weeds forever, 
at least till we go to heaven. I think it 
was Adam and Eve who made the garden 
weeds ; I’ll ask granny.” 

They were shown into a very dark and 


224 


Roses. 


dingy library, and Mr. Brewster, in a 
velvet skull cap, was sitting at his table 
reading out of a very large book. 

“ He’s like my uncle,” whispered 
Archie. “ All old gentlemen read books 
most of the day.” 

He . looked up at the children’s en- 
trance, then shut his book, and turned 
round his chair to the fire. “ Good after- 
noon,” he said ; “ now let me see this 
wonderful hoard.” 

Archie produced an old leather purse. 
Mrs. Fitzherbert had changed his silver 
into gold, and he proudly held out three 
sovereigns, one half-sovereign and six and 
ninepence in silver in his two small 
palms. Mr. Brewster tapped the boy’s 
head with one finger, a mark of high ap- 
probation from him. 

“ You’ll make your fortune when you 
get to be a man,” he said. “ You have 
got purpose and grit, and it’s a pity all 
your earnings should go on your own 
back in the shape of a female skirt. I 


“ One of the Family.” 225 

never did hold with those Highland rib- 
bons and rags ! ” 

“ They’re not rags,” said Archie with 
erect head and crimson cheeks ; “ they’re 
the badge of our clan ; Hector says so. 
It’s no disgrace to wear the family’s 
colors, that have fought and won so many 
grand battles.” Dimple had never seen 
Archie blaze forth so before. His Scotch 
pride had been touched, and he looked 
like a little turkey-cock ready to fly at 
the old gentleman. 

Mr. Brewster did not seem to mind a 
bit ; he laughed heartily. 

“ I’m English to the core,” he said with 
a chuckle, “ and you’re Scotch, my boy. 
Keep your family pride and wear your 
kilt. I’ll not interfere with you. Are 
you satisfied with what you have earned ? 
Are you going to give up me and my 
books and weeds ? ” 

“ I think I shall have to ask Hector,” 
said Archie hesitatingly. “ I don’t quite 
know if I have got enough, but there’ll 

15 


226 Roses. 

soon be nothing more to do. I’ve done all 
your books here.” 

“ What will you do when your weeds 
come up again ? ” asked Dimple of the old 
man. “ Archie says you like them, and 
will let them grow : will you ? ” 

“ We’ll wait till that time comes,” said 
Mr. Brewster. “ I shouldn’t think they 
dare show their heads after the energy 
and determination spent upon their de- 
struction by this young man.” 

“ They’re sure to come up again,” said 
Dimple cheerfully ; “ mine always do. 
I’ve got two kinds of weeds, Mr. Brewster, 
one sort in my garden, and one sort inside 
me. The sort inside me is the worst, be- 
cause God has to pull those up ; I can’t do 
it, but I try, and so does granny. Have 
you any little boy or girl that you take 
care of for God, I wonder ? ” 

“Tut! tut! child, what a tongue you 
have ! Here my boy, where is your purse ? 
Let me put your money back for you, and 
don’t drop it out on the road. Best give 


“ One of the Family.” 227 

it to your man at home and let him keep 
it for you.” 

So saying, Mr. Brewster carefully 
closed the old purse with the money in- 
side, and gave it back to Archie. Then 
he told the children to leave him. 

“ When you’re rigged out in your petti- 
coats, you can come and show yourself to 
me, not before, unless you want to earn 
some more money, and then I dare say I 
.can find a job for you.” 

“ And may I come with him?” asked 
Dimple. 

“Well, I suppose you may, as you got 
his situation as weeding boy for him.” 

The children shook hands with Mr. 
Brewster, and left him. Archie was long- 
ing to run home and show his purse to 
Hector, but he took Dimple home first, 
and they parted with a kiss and embrace. 

“ It’s just like Mr. Brewster said,” ex- 
claimed Archie in a burst of gratitude ; 
“you taught me how to earn money, 
Dimple.” 


228 


Roses. 


“Yes,” assented Dimple with a pleased 
smile ; “ I know I did, and you must show 
yourself to me and granny in your kilt 
before you go to Mr. Brewster.” 

It was not many days after this that 
Dimple had the delight of receiving a note 
from Archie. It was brought by Hector 
himself with great solemnity, and Dimple 
turned the envelope round and round with 
great pride before she would open it. 

Alas ! poor granny could not read it to 
her, and Taylor had to offer her help ; for 
though it was in a clear round hand, 
Dimple could not master it. It ran as 
follows : 

“ My dear Dimple, — 

This is to say I shall be pleased to 
see you to tea to-morrow afternoon at five 
o’clock on very particular business. Be 
sure to come, please. 

“ Your loving friend, 
“ Archie.” 

“ What is it Hector ? ” asked the little 


229 


“ One of the Family.” 

maiden, dancing up and down before the 
gaunt Scotchman as he discoursed to 
Jonas in the garden on the crops and the 
weather. “ Does Archie want me very 
particular ? Am I to come in my best 
frock ? I’ve never had such a grand asking 
to tea before. When is he going to get 
his kilt ? ” 

“ Ah, weel, Miss, ye’ll just have to bide 
a wee, and ye’ll be informed. Shall I be 
takin’ back the answer ? ” 

“ Of course I’m coming. Granny says 
I may.” 

The next day she departed in best white 
frock, kissing and hugging her godmother 
before she went. “ You won’t miss me 
very, very much, will you, granny ? Taylor 
likes it when I go out, because she comes 
in and reads to you.” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert bright- 
ly ; “ it will be her turn now. You both 
spoil me by so much attention. I have 
hardly time to think now. I am always 
being read and talked to so much.” 


230 Roses. 

Archie was nowhere to be seen when 
Dimple reached Fir House. She was 
shown into his schoolroom, where a very 
nice tea was spread, and then in a few 
minutes the door handle was turned, and 
in he marched, looking very shy and 
proud, as she broke into a delighted little 
cry. For he stood ‘there before her in all 
his glory : his tartan kilt, his plaid stock- 
ings and buckled shoes, his plaid and 
brooch on his shoulder, his swinging 
sporran and his dirk, which he held as if 
ready to draw and strike. And he was 
trying, with rumpled brow and frowning 
eyes, to look as fierce as liis ancestors. 
Old Hector stood behind him with a 
proud smile. “ Noo, show the little lassie 
what a man ye are. Step out, and who’ll 
be the ane to say that ye’re not a McBride 
at all 1 ” 

“ Oh, Archie, you’re splendid, you’re 
grand ! How lovely ! I didn’t know you 
would look so fine ! ” 

And Dimple fingered him all over, gaz- 


231 


“ One of the Family.” 

ing at him and asking questions, and per- 
fectly radiant with the unexpected sur- 
prise of it. 

“ Has your uncle seen you ? ” 

“ No,” said Archie ; “ we waited till 
you came. I want you to come in with 
me.” 

“ How did you manage to get it so 
quick ? ” 

“Hector did that for me. And, Dim- 
ple, wasn’t it funny when I brought home 
my purse the other day to Hector? We 
counted four gold pounds instead of three. 
We went over it again and again. There 
were four gold pounds, and one gold ten 
shillings, and then the silver. I can’t 
make it out. We must have counted 
wrong before. I wonder if your granny 
remembers ! ” 

“ Oh, never mind the money ; you’ve 
got the kilt ! ” exclaimed Dimple impa- 
tiently. “ Do come and let us see what 
your uncle says to you.” 

She dragged him after her to the study 


232 


Roses. 


door, and then there was a whispered con- 
sultation. Archie was beginning to feel 
nervous ; he was forgetting to put on the 
right expression. 

“ Stick ye chest oot, laddie,” whispered 
Hector excitedly ; “ hold ye head up, and 
look as if ye feared naebody. Ye’re 
wearin’ the colors of the clan, and must 
do ’em credit. Show a braw front, 
man ! ” 

Tap ! tap ! tap ! And then Dimple 
flung open the door, regardless of the 
student within. 

“ Here’s one of the family come to see 
you, Mr. McBride,” she said. 

Archie stepped bravely forward, and 
uncle and nephew regarded each other 
with a steady gaze. Archie certainly was 
looking his very best. The kilt had 
added breadth to his frail little figure ; 
his head erect, eyes bright with excite- 
ment, and flushed cheeks, really made 
him a handsome boy. 

Mr. McBride put on his glasses, and 


“ One of the Family.” 233 

stared at him as if he could not trust his 
eyes. 

“ Where on earth have you got your 
kilt from ? ” he asked, in sheer amaze- 
ment. 

“ He’s bought it all himself,” said 
Dimple breathlessly. “ He’s been earn- 
ing money, and saving, and saving, and 
he’s done it to show you he’s one of the 
family, and every bit as good as the pic- 
tures in the dining-room ! ” 

“ You think I’m a Scotchman now, 
uncle? Don’t I look more like one? ” 

There was much pathos in Archie’s 
tone. No one knew what it had been to 
the sensitive child to receive the sneers of 
his uncle regarding his puny size and 
foreign build. Hector had fostered in 
him a passionate desire from his baby- 
hood to prove himself a true Scotchman, 
and he anxiously awaited his uncle’s 
verdict. 

A strange, softened light came into Mr. 
McBride’s eyes as a glimmer of the boy’s 


234 


Roses. 


real feelings flashed through his mind. 
And when Dimple went on in her excite- 
ment to tell him all the details of the 
scheme, when he heard that for between 
two and three months Archie had been 
giving up every hour of his playtime to 
steady work, and had refused to accept 
help from any one, but had patiently and 
perseveringly toiled on, then Mr. McBride 
clapped his hand down on his little 
nephew’s shoulder, with a force that 
almost made him quail. 

“ I’m proud of you, laddie. You must 
have Scotch blood in you after all. There, 
run away now, for time is slipping away ; 
but we must let you wear kilts for the 
future.” 

They were dismissed, but Archie had 
happy tears in his eyes as he came out 
of the room. And old Hector said con- 
tentedly : 

“ ’Tisna the clothes only, ’tis the make 
of the laddie that has gi’en satisfaction to 
the Master.” 


235 


“ One of the Family.” 

They had a most delightful tea, and 
then marched round under the family 
pictures afterwards, and Dimple returned 
home with a glowing account to give her 
godmother of all that had taken place. 

“ And, granny,” she said softly at the 
end of her recital, “ me and Archie went 
up to his bedroom just before I came away, 
and we knelt down and thanked God He 
had shown ns how to get the kilt and helped 
Archie to work hard. We did pray about 
it long ago, and Archie thinks that p’raps 
God might have made his money a little 
more, acause there really was more than 
there ought to have been. Archie says 
he’ll never be unhappy again acause now 
he is really and truly one of the 
fam’ly ! ” 


CHAPTER XV 


“ Pricking One 
Another ” 

“ T T’S just his kilt, Pm sure it is, and I 
-■“won’t never speak to him again ! ” 
Dimple leant against the garden gate, 
and sobbed as if her heart would break. 
The day had begun well : she had been 
busy in her own way in the morning at- 
tending on her godmother, and having 
her reading-lesson with Taylor. At three 
o’clock Archie appeared, and they went 
out together into the garden to play. 

Perhaps Archie missed his afternoon 
occupation ; perhaps, as Dimple guessed, 
he was uplifted by the glory of his dress, 
and by the open admiration of the old 
servants at home. However it might be, 


“Pricking one Another.” 237 

he was certainly more masterful and 
overbearing than usual, and he had a 
scornful objection to every game that 
Dimple suggested. 

“ That’s only fit for girls. You can 
play that by yourself.” 

At first Dimple had submitted meekly 
to his scorn, but before long her fiery 
little spirit got the upper hand of her, and 
when it came to her garden being dis- 
cussed and criticised, Archie ought to have 
known upon what delicate ground he was 
treading. 

“ If I had a garden like you have,” he 
said, strutting round it with a swagger- 
ing air, “ I would have a proper rose gar- 
den like Mr. Brewster made Miss Nora. 
I would have soft grass, and a fountain, 
and six arches and seats, and a little 
bower ! ” 

He had told Dimple all about the de- 
serted rose garden in Mr. Brewster’s 
domain, and she knew the story well. 

Dimple’s color rose at once. 


238 


Roses. 


“ My garden is much nicer like it is, 
much nicer. Granny says she smelt my 
flowers every time she walked by ! O’ 
course it’s nearly dead now but it will be 
lovely next spring, even Jonas says it 
will ! I can gather a few flowers for 
granny even now, and it’s the properest 
garden ever made ! ” 

“ I don’t think it is,” said Archie, his 
nose still in the air. 

Then Dimple stamped her foot in a 
fury. 

“ You’re a horrid boy. I won’t play with 
you, and I wish I had never met you ! ” 
Archie laughed, but he felt a little un- 
comfortable. 

“ I don’t care. You’re only a girl. I 
wish I had a boy to play with ! ” 

“ I wish I had a girl to play with ! ” 
Then they looked defiance at each 
other. 

“ I think,” said Dimple steadily and 
emphatically, “ that I’m quite tired of 
you ! ” 


“ Pricking one Another.” 239 

“ And I mean to make a new friend/’ 
said Archie, determining to show scorn 
for scorn. 

There was silence for a minute. Dim- 
ple sat down on a low wooden bench by 
the side of her rose bed. She folded her 
small arms, and tried to look as ferocious 
as her small chubby face would allow her. 
Archie stood with his back against an old 
apple tree. He fingered his sporran, and 
held his head erect, trying to adopt an 
indifference that he did not really feel. 

“ And who will be your new friend ? ” 
asked the little maiden contemptuously. 

Archie hastily racked his brains for a 
suitable object of friendship. There were 
very few children in the neighborhood, 
and those few he rarely met, for his uncle 
was most unsociable. 

At last he said slowly : 

“ There’s a little boy in the next pew to 
mein church. He has only just come to 
live in the next village, and his mother is 
a widow. Mrs. Blaikie was telling me 


240 


Roses. 


about them. He’s a real boy, and we 
will go and climb trees in the wood, and 
get nuts and blackberries, and perhaps 
stay there a whole day, and — and take our 
dinner with us ! ” 

Certainly Archie knew how to make an 
outsider’s mouth water! For a minute 
Dimple’s face fell ; then she also rose to 
the occasion. 

“ I don’t care. Boys are stupid. I 
shan’t never know any boy again. My 
daddy is coming home, and he’s the big- 
gest, beautifullest man you ever saw ! I 
shan’t want anybody to play with when 
I’ve got daddy. He will take me out 
lovely walks, and we shall fish in the 
river together, and ride ponies, and write 
books, and then we shall build a big new 
house close to granny’s, and I shall have 
tea parties every day, but I shan’t never 
ask you. Daddy always said he liked 
girls better than boys, so he won’t like 
you, and he won’t want to see you, and I 
'shan’t either. We’ll forget all about 


“ Pricking one Another.” 241 

you, and I shall begin to forget you to- 
day.” 

Then Archie blazed out : 

“ You’re a cross, nasty thing, and I 
shan’t stay with you any more. And I’ll 
take away that new spade I gave you yes- 
terday. I paid a whole sixpence for it ! ” 

He seized hold of the new spade that 
was lying on the ground, shouldered it, 
and marched off to the gate. 

Dimple, with a cry of passion, sprang 
after him. 

“ You shan’t have it, you shan’t.” 

There was a tussle. Some sharp hits 
were given and received ; but the boy 
overcame the girl, and Archie dashed out 
into the road with a shout of triumph as 
he waved the spade over his head. He 
was soon out of sight, and Dimple now 
stood at the gate with Swelling heart, and 
sobbing breath, feeling as miserable as 
any little girl does, who quarrels with her 
dearest friend. 

She was found there by granny, who 
16 


242 


Roses. 


came out rather feebly, supporting herself 
by her stick, and feeling her way round 
the gravel paths with much caution. 

“ What is my little girl doing ?” she 
asked brightly. 

Impulsive little Dimple turned round 
and clutched hold of her godmother’s 
dress. 

“ Oh, granny, dear, Archie is a very 
wicked boy ! I’m never, never going to 
speak to him again. He has run away 
with my new spade, and he has called me 
names, and he’s a rude horrid ” 

“ Hush, hush, Dimple. You need not 
copy his example, come and walk round 
the garden with me, and tell your old 
granny all about it.” 

The childish story was soon told — a 
few heaving breaths interrupting it at 
intervals ; and then Mrs. Fitzherbert 
seated herself on the old garden seat in 
the terrace walk, and drew her little god- 
child tenderly towards her. 

“ It is much ado about nothing, darling. 


“ Pricking one Another.” 243 

Why, what silly little people you are ! 
Making one another miserable by pre- 
tending you don’t care for each other ! 
What would you do without Archie, eh ? 
And how could he do without you ? 
Two little roses putting their thorns out 
and pricking one another! I am quite 
ashamed of them ! ” 

“ Archie pricked me first,” sobbed 
Dimple ; “ true and faithful he did ! ” 

“ Then you must be the first one to 
forgive.” 

Dimple thought over this. 

“ He’s gone home, and he has taken 
away my spade.” 

“ It is too late for you to go after him now. 
It is getting dusk already, and we must go 
into the house. I can feel the damp rising. 
But my little Dimple must learn to be 
patient and forgiving to every one. You 
are not angry with him now are you ? ” 
Dimple stroked her godmother’s delicate 
white hand for some minutes without 
speaking, then she said in dejected tones. 


244 


Eoses. 


“ He’s going to have a boy friend ; he 
doesn’t care about me any more. He 
says I’m only a girl ! ” 

“I expect he is feeling very sorry now 
for his unkind words.” 

“ I’m sorry,” whispered the little 
maiden ; and Mrs. Fitzherbert took her 
indoors and said no more. 

When Dimple was tucked up in bed 
that night by Taylor she said gravely, 
“ Taylor, if you have a quarrel with a 
friend, how do you make it up? And 
supposing if he doesn’t want to, and you 
do, what must you do ? ” 

Taylor smiled. 

“ Who have you been quarrelin’ with ? 
Jonas? I’d tell him very pretty, how 
sorry you were, and ask him to forgive 
you ? ” 

“ And if he won’t forgive you ? It isn’t 
Jonas.” 

“ Not Master Archie ? oh for shame ! 
Why I thought you two never quarreled.” 

“ What must I do, Taylor? ” 


“Pricking one Another.” 245 

The tone was piteous. 

“ Do? Give him a kiss. He isn’t one 
to keep up temper for long. I didn’t 
know he had any temper in him ; he al- 
ways looks as meek as Moses ! ” 

Dimple turned over on her pillow, and 
when Taylor turned down the lamp and 
went out of the room, her little voice 
whispered, “Please, God, wake me up 
early to-morrow. I’m sorry I’ve been 
cross, but make Archie sorry too, acause 
he was quite as bad as I was ! ” 

It was a bright morning with just a 
touch of frost in the air ; Dimple slipped 
cautiously out of her bed in great fear of 
disturbing Taylor, for she was not quite 
certain whether her meditated plan would 
stand her approval. She looked at her 
bath with great hesitation, put one rosy 
finger into the water jug and drew back 
shivering. No, a bath without any warm 
water was clearly an impossibility. Stock- 
ings and shoes were drawn on in great 
haste, and then the more difficult task of 


246 


Roses. 


petticoats and garments with the many 
buttons and strings was attacked. But 
they were on at last, and slipping into a 
warm out-door coat which buttoned in 
front, Dimple took satisfaction in the 
thought that now she was tidy. The 
tangled curl? were brushed well, but the 
comb, always her deadly enemy, was not 
brought into requisition at all. A very 
little dab on her face with a moist sponge, 
a similar dab on her hands, and then, 
with her hat on her head and gloves in 
her hand, Dimple stole softly out of the 
room and down the stairs. No one 
seemed about, though some of the house- 
hold were up, and the front door stood 
open. 

Once outside, the little girl drew a 
breath of relief. “ I’m so glad Taylor 
didn’t wake ; p’raps she would have 
stopped me, and I do want to get to Archie 
before breakfast. I wonder if he’s very 
angry still? I think I will take him just 
a few — a very few violets.” 


“ Pricking one Another.” 247 

She ran off to the garden, and bent over 
a much-treasured clump of dark purple 
violets, that she considered specially grew 
for u granny’s ” use and pleasure. It 
cost her something to pick them, and I 
am afraid that only the least fine ones 
were gathered. Still it was a very pre- 
sentable buttonhole when a few big leaves 
surrounded them ; and clutching them 
tightly in one hot little hand, Dimple ran 
out of the gate, and made her way as fast 
as she could towards Fir House. 

It was a long walk and the struggles 
over dressing herself had rather exhausted 
her. She had come out in her thin house 
shoes, and the road seemed very stony. 
Great sighs escaped her every few min- 
utes ; but once having determined to do 
a thing, Dimple seldom drew back. 

She met no one on the road for some 
time ; but presently, in the distance, she 
saw a little figure approaching her ; and, 
to her great delight, she soon recognized 
it as Archie’s. 


248 


Roses. 


“ He’s coming to meet me.” 

Her flagging steps now broke into a 
run ; there was in another moment a 
prompt and hearty reconciliation. 

“ Oh, Archie, I was horrid ! ” 

“ So was I — beastly ! And I was com- 
ing to you as fast as I could.” 

“ I dressed myself all by myself, and 
I’ve brought you some violets ! ” 

“ And I got out of the dining-room 
window, because the doors were all locked 
and bolted, and I’ve brought you a cake. 
Mrs. Blaikie made it for me last night.” 
The violets and cakes were exchanged, 
and a warm embrace followed. 

“ And I do like boys better than girls, 
Archie, and I shall always like you.” 

“And, of course, I like you better than 
fifty dozen boys, and your garden is quite 
— quite stunning ! And I’ve brought you 
back your spade, and I’ll get you a lovely 
red watering-pot next time I get any 
money.” * 

Then they stood and beamed at each 


“ Pricking one Another.” 249 

other ; and Dimple, feeling quite ready 
for her breakfast, nibbled at the cake, and 
insisted that Archie should have his fair 
share of it. 

“ We’ll never be cross to each other 
again, will we ? ” she said emphatically, 
“ for it makes me dreffully uncomfortable 
inside ! ” 

“No we won’t,” responded Archie with 
alacrity, “ and, do you know, I made up 
a new game for us to play at last night 
when I was in bed. I hope you’ll like it.” 

“ Oh, do tell me ! ” 

“ I must bring over uncle’s dog — Terry, 
and he must be a bloodhound, and you 
and he must hunt me ; he can find me 
anywhere. You must shut yourselves in 
the tool-house, and give me a good start. 
I’ll be a slave that has run away. I’ve 
been reading about them, and I’ll creep 
through the long grass, and go across 
fields and climb trees, and get over walls, 
and then you and Terry must track me 
down to kill me.” 


250 


Roses. 


“ Lovely ! ” exclaimed Dimple. “ Oh, 
Archie, you’re a wunnerful boy ! ” 

And Archie smiled a little self-con- 
sciously as he saw he had quite regained 
his position in his little playmate’s heart. 

He took Dimple back to her home, but 
would not stay, though she pressed him, 
and the little girl made her appearance 
not a moment too soon ; for Taylor, in a 
worried, anxious state of mind, was leav- 
ing the house in search of her. Un- 
combed and unwashed, she stood before 
her with a perfectly satisfied smile. 

“ Don’t be angry, Taylor. I had to go, 
and I dressed all by myself, and I’ve 
done what you told me to do. I gave 
him a kiss, and now we’re friends again ! ” 
“ You’ve never been all the way to 
Master Archie’s ? ” 

“ No, we met in the middle of the road ; 
but we’re never never going to quarrel 
again, and he’s coming this afternoon to 
play a lovely game with me ! ” 

“Well,” said Taylor, with a shake of 


“ Pricking one Another.” 251 

her head, u I hope you won’t quarrel 
again with him, if this is to be the upshot 
of it. How am I to dress you in proper 
time for breakfast, I should like to know ; 
running off like a little scavenger ! ” 
Dimple wondered what a scavenger was 
like, but judged it best to be silent, and 
Taylor soon recovered her usual equa- 
nimity of temper. 


CHAPTER XVI 


“ It is Just Like we 
Used to be ” 

RANNY, Taylor say you want me 
partic’lar ! ” 

“ Yes, darling, I have something very 
nice to tell you.” 

“ Is it a secret? I do love secrets.” 

“ I don’t know that it is exactly a 
secret, but it is something that will make 
you very happy. Do you see this yellow 
envelope in my lap ? This has just come 
from your father.” 

“ He is coming home ! ” cried Dimple, 
flinging herself precipitously into Mrs. 
Fitzherbert’s lap. “ When will he be 
here, granny?” 

“ This afternoon, about five o’clock.” 

252 


“ It is Just Like we Used to be. 1 ’ 253 

There was a breathless silence. When 
Dimple was very much moved, she was 
alway speechless ; her little heart was 
too full for words. She only gave her 
“ granny ” an ecstatic hug, and the whole 
of her little body was quivering with ex- 
citement. At last she said, “ And what 
bed will he sleep in ? ” 

“ I have told Taylor to see that the 
spare room is got ready for him. I think, 
as it is a fine morning, you might come 
round the garden with me, and we will 
see if we can find some flowers for you 
to put in his room.” 

Dimple danced off with shining eyes, 
and for the rest of the day she was almost 
beside herself with joy. She found plenty 
to do. All her toys must be mended 
and arranged to show “ daddy ” ; she 
hovered about his room, inspecting his 
pillows, his bed, his chairs, and arrang- 
ing his toilet table till Bertha scolded her 
well ; but scoldings were not heeded on 
such an eventful day. She tried to tidy 


254 


Roses. 


tip the whole house, and questioned Sarah 
in the kitchen as to what her “ daddy ” 
was going to have for dinner ; Jonas in 
the garden as to what “ veg’tubbers ” he 
was going to send in, and Bertha as to 
whether she had enough spoons and forks 
and knives for “ daddy to eat with.” 

Early in the afternoon she took her- 
self in hand, and begged Taylor to dress 
her in her very best, and make her look 
as “ nice and big a girl as ever she could.” 

“ For daddy will be very surprised and 
pleased to see me so big. I used to wear 
socks in Lunnon, and now I have stock- 
ings, and my frocks was torn and dirty, 
and now they’re nice and clean. And 
my curls must be very tidy, and I won’t 
move my head once to get them untidy 
till daddy comes.” 

At four o’clock she crept into the draw- 
ing-room to granny, and tried hard to sit 
still on a stool by the side of her chair. 

All her remembrances of her father 
were uppermost in her mind, and Mrs. 


“ It is Just Like we Used to be.” 255 

Fitzlierbert wisely got lier to talk of her 
old life in London. That kept her inter- 
ested and still ; she told again of the 
old days of poverty and anxiety, which 
showed her godmother that the impres- 
sions then received were never likely to 
be effaced from her mind through subse- 
quent prosperity. And she kept repeat- 
ing with soft pats on her granny’s hand : 

“ But I loves you, granny, nearly as 
much, faithful true I do ! And daddy 
and I will take care of you together 
now ! ” 

Once a doubt crossed her mind. 

“ Granny, will daddy be a gardener in 
God’s garden ? acause you won’t leave off 
making your little rose grow nice, will 
you ? Can I have two gardeners taking 
care of me, do you think ? ” 

“ Yes, darling, God’s garden is big 
enough to hold a good many gardeners. 
I don’t think I shall forsake my little 
charge just yet.” 

The afternoon wore away, and then at 


256 


Roses. 


last a fly drove up, and, white and excited. 
Dimple tore out into the hall to be clasped 
at last in the arms of a big brown-bearded 
man whose eyes were moist, and voice 
husky and uncertain, as he held his little 
daughter tightly to his breast. They 
came in together ; and when Arthur 
Seaton saw his old friend in her sweet 
helplessness, and heard her soft voice 
welcoming him so brightly and lovingly 
to her home, he nearly broke down. 

“ I never can thank you enough,” he 
said, a for what you have done for my 
child.” 

“It is too soon to ask you what you 
think of her,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert. 
“ You find her grown, of course? ” 

Dimple’s father set her down on the floor 
in front of him, and looked at her with a 
critical eye. She held herself up proudly, 
and then flung herself into his arms 
again. 

“ Oh, daddy, let me feel your arms 
round me. It is just like we used to be ; 


« 


“ It is Just Like we Used to be.” 257 

but you don’t look ill and tired now ; and, 
do you know, you’re going to Have 
chicken, and apple-tart, and cream, and 
lots of good things for dinner ? And 
will you let me show you your bedroom ? 
Such a nice big one, and I stuck the pins 
in the pin-cushion all myself, and granny, 
and I picked you some flowers, but I put 
them in the little china vase, and come 
and see it now ! ” 

Father and daughter disappeared, and 
Mrs. Fitzherbert sat in her darkness by 
her flickering fire. 

The scent of a pot of heliotrope near 
her made her put out her hand and touch 
it softly. Then she smiled. 

“ I could not be lonely with God’s living 
creatures round me. And if it is His 
will, I shall not be bereft of the child.” 

Dimple was allowed to have late dinner 
for a treat, and sat up for an hour later. 
She was inclined to resist leaving her 
father at first, but a gentle word from her 
godmother was quite enough. 

17 


258 


Roses. 


“ Only, daddy, will you come and let 
me say my prayers at your knee ? ” 

Her father promised, and was soon 
summoned up-stairs. 

Just before Dimple, with clasped hands 
and closed eyes, was beginning her peti- 
tion, she looked up at her father. 

“ Do you remember, daddy, trying to 
teach me ' Our Father ’ out of the Bible, 
and I couldn’t say it ? I didn’t know 
God very well then, did I? But I’m a 
bigger girl now, and granny has told me 
such lots, and I love God very much, 
and He loves me. And Jesus has made 
me one of His roses, and I’m in His 
garden ! ” 

Then, in a soft, childish voice the even- 
ing prayer went up, and the strong man 
seemed to be a child himself again at his 
mother’s knee. He bent and kissed his 
little daughter silently when her prayer 
was done. Then he had to tuck her up 
in her little white bed, and after another 
hug and embrace the happy child turned 


It is Just Like we Used to be. 1 ’ 259 


her head round on the pillow and was 
soon in the land of dreams. 

Her father descended the stairs slowly 
and thoughtfully, and went back to Mrs. 
Fitzherbert by the drawing-room fire. 

There was much to talk over, but be- 
fore he left her that night he had prom- 
ised to accept her offer of her home for 
himself and his child ; and Mrs. Fitzher- 
bert laid her head on her pillow with the 
murmured words, “ Surely goodness and 
mercy have followed me all the days of 
my life.” 

* * # * * 

It was June once more, the month of 
roses, and Mrs. Fitzherbert’s garden was 
a wealth of beauty and fragrance. The 
old lady wandered along her terrace walk, 
inhaling with joy the sweet scent of her 
favorites. She looked very frail this 
summer, and those who loved her watched 
her with anxious eyes. 

Dimple was still her constant attendant. 


260 


Roses. 


Her father was much in London, and 
when home, would be shut up in his study 
for most of the day, so the little girl was 
able to spend as much time as formerly 
with her godmother. She was as passion- 
ately devoted to her little garden as ever, 
and one sunny morning came flying in to 
her “ granny” excitedly. 

“ Granny, my rose tree that was planted 
last year has got a bud. Do come and 
see it. Oh, I am so glad ; I shall have 
roses now as well as you.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert smiled at the eager 
child. 

“ I am glad it has come, darling, at last. 
It has been a great trial to your patience, 
hasn’t it ? Run and get granny’s garden 
hat for her, and she will come out.” 

A few minutes after, and they stood by 
the tree. Mrs. Fitzherbert fingered the 
little bud tenderly. 

“ It 'is a healthy little bud.” 

“ Yes, I’m sure it’s goingto be a lovely 
rose. Jonas says it’s a dark-red one. It’s 


It is Just Like we Used to be.” 261 


going to be my little child granny, and 
I’m its gardener, aren’t I ? It makes me 
feel quite big. I like my pansies, and my 
‘cherry-pie,’ and my ‘ sweet- Williams,’ but 
they’re nothing like roses, are they ? ” 

“ No,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert rather 
dreamily; “ roses are the sweetest tenants 
of my garden, and I like to think they 
will be the same to you. Give them plen- 
ty of love and sunshine, darling, and don’t 
forget to water them.” Then she added 
in a softer tone, “ After all, much as we 
can do, the two necessities of their life are 
beyond our power to procure for them. 
They come from above — the showers and 
the sunshine.” 

Dimple looked up puzzled. 

“ I can water my rose with my little 
watering-can, granny.” 

“Yes, but you can’t make the water, 
can you ? ” 

“ No, God makes that, doesn’t He ? ” 
Then with her usual quickness of thought 
the child added, “ I’m an under-gardener 


262 


Roses. 


to my little rose, like you say you are to 
me sometimes, and God is the proper 
Gardener, isn’t He, as well as the 
Master ? ” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert laid her hand softly 
on Dimple’s shoulder, and said with slow 
emphasis, — 

“ Never forget, darling, that God our 
Father is the Head Gardener of all His 
roses in this world. The under-gardeners 
may be taken away, but He never leaves 
one of His flowers, and will carry the 
work on Himself.” 

Dimple was awed and impressed by her 
godmother’s words, though she hardly 
knew why. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert left her, and did not 
come out to the garden again till the cool 
of the evening. Then Dimple’s father 
took her on his arm, and whilst Dimple 
played about, the strong man with the 
feeble old lady paced the rose terrace to- 
gether. They talked of many things, but 
as usual the chief subject was the child. 


“ It is Just Like we Used to be.” 263 

“ She has gained so much from being 
with you,” the father was saying ; “ you 
are an adept at training both children 
and roses.” 

Mrs. Fitzherbert smiled. 

“ A little child’s life is never really 
happy and full till it has been brought 
into touch with the Master who loves little 
children,” she said softly. “ I have learnt 
a great deal myself in training Dimple. 
I should say that children, like roses, 
want a great deal of love and sunshine, 
but, more than all, they need a great deal 
of prayer.” 

“ I think we all need that,” said Arthur 
Seaton in a moved voice. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert simply. 
Then, pleading fatigue she sat down on 
her favorite seat in the midst of her roses. 

“ I sometimes think,” she said with a 
smile, “ that it was a presentiment of 
future blindness that made me so many 
years ago resolve I would only have sweet- 
scented flowers in my garden. My blind- 


264 


Roses. 


ness “has not robbed me of my treasures. 
They have never seemed so dear and near 
to me as now, when I have their fragrance 
delighting me so continually. I think I 
will rest here quietly for a little while. 
What a lovely evening it is ! Would you 
not like to take a little walk with Dim- 
ple ? I will wait here till you come back. 
The child loves to get her father to her- 
self sometimes.” 

Dimple ran up at this minute. 

“ I want to take daddy into the field, 
granny, just to look at such a lovely little 
wild rose in the hedge; and I will tell 
him your best story, shall I ? You won’t 
be dull, granny, will you? We’ll come 
back very soon.” 

The child tripped off, but came back 
in a little while with a basket of cut 
roses. 

“ Jonas was just going to take these in, 
granny, and I thought they would be 
company for you. Aren’t they lovely ? 
Here’s a red one, and pink, and yellow, 


“ It is Just Like we Used to be.” 265 

and white. They’ll talk to you till we 
come back.” 

Dimple laughed merrily as she tum- 
bled her basket of roses out ou her 
granny’s knees. 

Mrs. Fitzherbert leant back in her seat, 
and listened to the retreating footsteps of 
father and daughter. She made a picture 
as she sat there in the golden sunset with 
a background of roses which fell in clus- 
ters round the old rustic seat, even fram- 
ing the sweet gray head that reclined very 
feebly against them. Her white, fleecy 
shawl lightened her widow’s dress that 
she always wore, and her delicate, blue- 
veined hands were almost hidden amongst 
the richly colored roses that were on her 
lap. She bent her head to inhale their 
sweet perfume more than once, and then 
a bright radiance crept into her sweet old 
face as she raised it to the still, blue sky. 

“ O Lord, Thou hast brought to perfec- 
tion these flowers of Thine. Wilt Thou 
mercifully and lovingly bring to perfec- 


266 


Roses. 


tion the two other flowers that are so upon 
my heart to-night ? I have tried to train 
the rosebud for Thee. Do Thou continue 
her training, and bring her father into 
Thy garden and under Thy care.” 

The blue, sightless eyes were shining 
with hope and trust, and the rays of the 
setting sun lit up her face with a golden 
glory. 

A quarter of an hour later Arthur 
Seaton and his little girl came back to the 
old rose terrace. They found “ granny ” 
still sitting amongst her beloved roses ; 
but there was a hush and peace about her 
quiet form that had never been there 
before. 

“ Granny ” had left her earthly garden, 
and had passed into the Master’s heavenly 
one. Her work as under-gardener was 
done. 


THE END. 





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